Spoofy Todd: Yet Another Parody From Fleet Street
by Luminaires
Summary: Originality? What's that? Yep, it's another parody of The Movie, in which there are anachronisms galore, girlie men aplenty, terrible song parodies, and much, much more. Read, review, repeat. FINALE CHAPTER UP NOW!
1. In Whish It Beginsh

**SPOOFY TODD: YET ANOTHER PARODY FROM FLEET STREET**

**SCENE ONE: In Whish It Beginsh**(The credits open. Disturbingly realistic CGI meat goes through a CGI meat grinder. Your dear author, who has always had difficulty distinguishing fantasy from reality, loses her lunch.)

Author's Mother: Fiona, look! It looks just like hamburger!

Author: (gags) Urk. (vows to convert to veganism)

(A young man is standing on a ship. His name is Anthony, but the h is silent, and Arnold Schwarzennegger would probably refer to him as a "girlie man". He has perfect, shiny hair, and if you are one of his fangirls, you are probably not straight. Just sayin'.)

Anthony: (ignores the fact that the city before him is filthy, gloomy, and depressing, because in Anthony's world everything is rainbows and sunshine 24/7) London, London, it's a wonderful town! The spirits are up and the crime rate is down! Oh look, there's a circus clown!

(Suddenly, Captain Jack Sp - I mean, Sweeney Todd appears. He is wearing gobs of eyeliner and looks slightly...twitchy. Arnold Schwarzennegger could probably pick him up and snap him in half. He has a stripe in his hair that reminds your dear author of the skunk from Bambi, and if you are one of his fangirls, that makes two of us.)

Sweeney: (questions Anthony's sanity) London, London, it's a horrible town! The murder's up and the people all frown! Anthony, have you been overdosing on your Prozac again?

Anthony: Rainbows and butterflies and SPAAAAAAARKLES-

Sweeney: (sighs) There's just no getting through to you, is there?

Anthony: Fairies and sequins and TWINKIIIIESSSS-

Sweeney: Let me tell you a little story to make you question the sparkliness of the world.

Anthony: (giggles) Is it about ponies?

Sweeney: No. Once upon a time, I - I mean, this barber dude, had this totally smokin' wife, right? And he was all up on that every day and every night. I mean, she was beautiful and virtuous and pure and all of that...good stuff. Anyway, this other dude, Judge Turnip - I mean, Turpin, saw her, and was all like, DAMN GIRL YOU SO FINE. So then he had the barber dude shipped off to Australia, where he had to hang out with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman for like a trillion years...

Anthony: (stares in shock) Um. That was very...enlightening. I'm so sorry for your loss. (slowly backs away) Where would I be able to find you, if I had...er...the _need_?

Sweeney: (also stares in shock, because he can't believe Anthony's hitting on him) Around Fleet Street, I wouldn't wonder. Now stay the hell away from me!

(Sweeney runs away, flailing wildly and hoping Anthony doesn't follow him.)

Anthony: (smiles) Bye-bye, stranger! I hope we meet again sometime. You're so _dreamy... _(clasps his hands and sighs)

(The camera jerks itself around London frantically, and gives everyone a headache. Various floozies, harlots, pimps, prostitutes, men of ill repute, reporters visiting from Kazakhstan, and cancan dancers line the streets. Finally, we arrive at something called Mrs. Lovett's Pie Shop. This is obviously owned by Marla Si - I mean, Mrs. Lovett, who has awesome hair and pretty dresses. She also has a sadistic and ruthless streak, but we'll get to that later. She appears to be engaged in a fistfight with a lump of dough. The dough is losing. As soon as Sweeney walks in, she drops what she's doing and becomes extremely manic.)

Mrs. Lovett: OMG CUSTOMER! Okay, sit your ass down, and if you try to leave, I'll duct tape you to your seat. Someone once told me that duct tape fixes everything. Well, not everything - I don't see how it could fix my pies. Cause they suck worse than a vaccuum cleaner when the bag is full. I enjoy puns.

Sweeney: I can tell.

(Mrs. Lovett spots the cockroach from Wall-E lurking in a corner and proceeds to smash it to pieces.)

Mrs. Lovett: No one ever comes in here. Maybe it's the pie, maybe it's the bugs, maybe it's the bugs in the pie, maybe it's the fact that I'm a manic-depressive with dependency issues! What do you think?

(She sets down a pie in front of him. It resembles a brick with crust on it. Sweeney attempts to take a bite and loses a back tooth.)

Sweeney: What do you put in this? My tooth just broke off! I've got half a mind to sue you!

Mrs. Lovett: (gasps in horror) Good God, don't send the Sues back here again! I thought we'd seen the last of 'em! (shudders) They were all so blonde...and perky...and _happy..._

Sweeney: That's not what I meant. What's a Sue?

Mrs. Lovett: This lady that used to live here. She had a hot husband. You wanna hear the story? It's truly depressing.

(She leads him back to her parlor, which is covered in truly horrible wallpaper and looks like it was decorated by someone's very sentimental grandmother. This is shorthand for "Precious Moments figurines on every available surface". Sweeney throws up in his mouth a little.)

Sweeney: (stares in horror at all the pink and cute) Have you ever heard of a condition called ocular diabetes? I think you just gave it to me.

Mrs. Lovett: Nope. Anyway, the lady who used to live here? With her insanely hot barber husband?

Sweeney: Why are you phrasing everything with an upward inflection?

Mrs. Lovett: Because I talk like a Valley Girl when I tell stories? AAAANYWAY, her gorgeous husband got shipped off to Australia cause he was all up on his wife in public, if you know what I'm sayin', and this Judge Turnip guy, he just couldn't _deal, _ya know? So then Turnip stood outside her window with a boombox like the guy from the Say Anything movie, although you probably know it as that guy from the Hawthorne Heights video, and she was all "Sure, I'll go to your party!" But then she went to his party and he put some Aquadots in her drink and raped her. Then she "died".

Sweeney: **DO NOT WAAAAAAAAAAAANTTTTTT!**

Mrs. Lovett: Like, oh my gawd? You're Benjamin Barker?

Sweeney: It's Todd now. Sweeney Todd. Wait, maybe I should say that in my Sean Connery accent. (picks up a nearby squirt gun and does silly secret agent poses with it) Todd. Schweeney Todd. Much better.

Mrs. Lovett: (stares, drools, and twitches) You're so sexy when you're angry.

Sweeney: I want to drown you in a river of your own blood and then chop up your body into thousands of tiny pieces and feed it to sharks.

(Of course, Mrs. Lovett being Mrs. Lovett, she misinterprets this phrase as "I want to make love to you all night and then cover your body in whipped cream, which I will lick off very slowly.)

Mrs. Lovett: (clasps hands, flutters eyelashes) Oh, Mr. T, that's so romantic! Oh, yeah, and by the way, the Turnip guy took your daughter. He likes to put holes in her wall and look through them while she undresses.

(By now, Sweeney's face looks like this: O___o)

Sweeney: Oh...god...can't...take...any...more...bad news today...homicidal...urges...building...

Mrs. Lovett: Don't worry, everything's going to be okay! I have a surprise for you. Follow me.

(She leads him outside and up the stairs to the abandoned barbershop. They go into the room, which hasn't been cleaned in fifteen years, so everything is practically buried in dust. Sweeney finds Johanna's old doll, which is supposed to be some kind of fancy metaphor for how much he loves and misses his family, but to him it just looks really freakin' creepy. Mrs. Lovett lifts up a floorboard to reveal...)

(DUN DUN DUNNNN)

Sweeney: (squeals in delight) MY SHINIES! (grabs box and hugs it to his chest)

Mrs. Lovett: (wants a hug, but is too polite to say anything, preferring to molest him with her eyes)

Sweeney: These are my friends -

(Somewhere in America, John McCain is watching the movie and adapts the "my friends" line for overuse in his speeches. Quoting a serial killer is generally a good way to ensure losing an election.)

Sweeney: - this one's Johanna, this one's Lucy, this one's Billy Bob Joe...named after my uncle. He died in a tragic shovel incident. We generally don't mention it.

Mrs. Lovett: Why don't you pay attention to me instead of your stupid razors?

Sweeney: Because you're not shiny and pretty and sharp.

Mrs. Lovett: (angrily) I AM TOO!

Sweeney: ARE NOT!

Mrs. Lovett: ARE TOO!

Sweeney: DEE TWO!

Mrs. Lovett: (sulks) Fiiiiine. You win. For now...

(She stomps out of the room. Sweeney straightens up and holds his razor in the air, reminding your dear author a little too much of another Johnny Depp character with large, sharp appendages.)

Sweeney: (still doing Sean Connery accent) At lasht, my arm ish complete again!

Mrs. Lovett: (from downstairs) STOP YELLING! I'M DOING PILATES!

(DRAMATIC ORGAN MUSIC)

**Will Mrs. Lovett ever win Sweeney over? (We know the answer to this one.) Why does she talk like a Valley Girl? (We may never know the answer to this one.) If you review, will your dear author give you all gummy worms, meat pies, and Arizona Iced Tea? (YES!) Find out the answers to all your most burning questions in the next installment of SPOOFY TODD! **


	2. In Which Anthony Stalks The Jailbait

**SCENE TWO: In Which Anthony Stalks the Jailbait**(Anthony Hope skips along the dirty, gray streets of London, whistling Barney songs to himself. Suddenly, he hears a voice singing in a pitch that is higher than most dogs can hear. The voice belongs to the beautiful, virtuous, innocent, adorable, perfect, slightly insane Johanna Barker, and it is Love At First Hearing. Or something like that.)

Johanna: (in chipmunk voice) _GREEEEEN FINCH AND LINNET BIRD, NIGHTINGALE, BLACKBIRD SINGING IN THE DEAD OF NIIIIIIIGHHTTTTT..._(Meanwhile, Turpin, also known as "the Turnip guy", is peeping at her through a hole in her wall.)

Turpin: Oh yeah baby. Stitch that sampler. Stitch that sampler. Giggity giggity giggity.

Johanna: _Take these broken wings and learn to flyyyyyyyyyyyy..._

(She hits a high note that shatters glass and makes the green finch, along with the linnet bird, spontaneously combust.)

Johanna: Oh dear.

(Anthony, looking around to see where that impossibly Munchkinesque voice is coming from, is being stalked himself by a creepy old beggar woman. She kinda looks like Squidward, but blonde.)

Beggar Woman: Hey. You. Lady-boy. Gimme some money. I'll service you.

Anthony: You can have some Tic Tacs. They're legal tender in, like, Finland. I'd rather not be serviced, but could you tell me who that beauteous creature in the window is?

Beggar Woman: Oh, that's Johanna Banana Montana, Judge Turpin's ward. He's a creeper who likes to watch little girls while they sleep, kind of like Edward Cullen.

Anthony: Thanks for your help, nice lady. Now shoo, I don't want to get any diseases.

(Beggar Woman shuffles off, muttering about bears, beets, and Battlestar Galactica. Anthony begins to skip again, and sings "Shake It" by Metro Station while doing so. However, this is not the version you may know...)

Anthony: I'm at your home, now I'm standing near the front door.  
Your dad acts cold, but girl I'm getting so warm.  
And I'll try, yeah I'm attempting to get inside.  
I think you're really hot, but I have to go now.  
These feelings tearing me up, I'm so emo.

Now when she does it like this then I touch her like that.  
Now if I touch her like this will she call the police?  
Now when she runs away will I chase her right back?  
Come on! Stalk, stalk, stalk stalk the jailbait!  
It's fun! Stalk, stalk, stalk stalk the jailbait!

(Turpin pops his head out of the door.)

Turpin: Yo. Man. Lady. Whatever you are. Get yourself in here. Fo realz. Yo yo yiggidy yo, and all that. (makes out-of-date gang signs, attempts to look menacing)

Anthony: Uh. Okay?

(Anthony is escorted into the living room, aka Porn Heaven. True, it is artsy porn, but still. Turpin offers him a drink. Anthony wonders where, exactly, this is going, and hopes he remembered his pepper spray.)

Turpin: (breaks out into song) Look at this porn. Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? I wanna be the man, the man who has _eeeeeeverything..._

Anthony: (is getting seriously weirded out) Uh. Yes sir, it's absolutely fantastic. I was wondering -

Turpin: Look at this stuff. Pictures untold. Every single Playboy centerfold...

Anthony: Why am I here, exactly? And please stop singing Little Mermaid songs, I'm getting bad flashbacks to my time at sea.

Turpin: (cuts to the chase) GANDER GANDER GANDER. GANDER GANDER GANDER. GAAAAAAAAAANDER.

Anthony: So what you're trying to say is, you invited me in here to play Duck, Duck Goose with you?

Turpin: ...Not quite. Oh, Beadle Bamford!

(The Beadle appears. Contrary to his name, he is not a BAMF. He appears to have stolen House's cane.)

Beadle: Hola. Me llamo Beadle-o Bamford-o. Donda esta la biblioteca? (Hello, my beloved Turpin, what services do you require? *wink wink*)

Turpin: (points at Anthony) Punish him. He was goosing my future wife.

Beadle: Quisiera que usted sacara mis pantalones. (Gladly!)

Turpin: WHY ARE YOU TALKING FUNNY?! GO BEAT THE LADY BOY WITH YOUR PIMP STICK!

Beadle: Si, senor. Tengo gusto de las crepas. (But I'd rather beat you with my meat stick! *wink wink*)

(Beadle takes Anthony out behind the house and pokes him with the pimp stick a couple of times.)

Beadle: (enraged) YO QUIERO TACO BELL! (OH BABY! HARDER HARDER HARDER!)

Anthony: ...In English please?

Beadle: Sale, el muchacho de la senora, pero me trae algo de Nachos Bell Grande primero. (Please, beautiful man-lady, bring me some nachos so I can cover you in them while we make love.)

(Anthony, now mentally scarred beyond all recognition, picks up his bag and does the pansy run away from the Beadle. Now he is singing a different song, this time "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus. However, it is not the version you know...)

Anthony: I got my sights set on you, and I'm ready to aim.  
You are the hottest girl I've seen, although you're rather plain.  
I know you're something special, but I just know your name.  
But I, I can't wait, to stalk you again.

(Suddenly, Anthony begins headbanging viciously. It kind of looks like he's having a seizure. People begin to stare.)

Anthony: I wish we could hang out! It really makes me frown!  
Your stupid guardian is trying to get up on you now!  
If you know what I mean! But I must keep this clean!  
My best friend Sweeney said, oh he's just being Anthony.  
If we ever hang out, I'll introduce myself,  
Guess I'll have to rest til then.  
But woah-oh I, I can't wait, to stalk you again...

(Johanna bemusedly looks down from her window, wondering why all this fuss is being made over her by a boy who, now that his mouth is bloody, looks remarkably like...)

Passerby: 'Ey! You! Boy-thing! D'you know you look like a girl what got lipstick on?

Anthony: (smiles, making himself look even creepier) I do now. (bats eyelashes) Do you know where I can find a thing called a "Taco Bell"?

Passerby: I think they have one on Fleet Street...

Anthony: YIPPEE! (scampers off to find Bamford's nachos)

**Why is Anthony being such a creepy stalker? Why does the Beadle only speak in Spanish? And why can't I think of a third question? Tune in next time for another installment of Spoofy Todd that will be sure to make **_**you**_** ask "WTF?!"**

[A/N: I don't like Miley Cyrus or Metro Station, my friend and I came up with the "Anthony versions" of those two songs because they seem kind of creepy on their own. Also, put the Beadle's Spanish lines into a translator for some lolz, especially the later ones...]


	3. In Which High Times Are Had By None

**[A/N: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! Merry Nondenominational Winter Holiday Of Your Choice!]**

**SCENE THREE: In Which High Times Are Had By None**

(Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett are in the marketplace. However, it is not the marketplace that Sweeney remembers, and because everything is different, he's extremely disoriented, much like your dear author was the other day when she went to Wal-Mart after they finished remodeling it. But that's another, extremely boring story, which has absolutely no relevance to the current plot. Anyway, there's no more flowers, sparkles, or sunshine, but they did put up a sushi place on the corner, which raises Sweeney's spirits from Very Very Depressed to just Very Depressed. Happiness is not really a part of his emotional vocabulary. Speaking of which...)

Mrs. Lovett: Cheer up, Mr. Grumpy Gills! I know just the thing that will make you happy!

Sweeney: So you're saying that you're going to let me slowly drain your blood into a bathtub and then pull your body in several different -

Mrs. Lovett: Sexy times now?

Sweeney: No.

Mrs. Lovett: Dang it. Wanna go shopping?

Sweeney: (does not really have much of a choice) Uh. Er. Right...

(Immediately everything turns the exact shade of Pepto-Bismol and Sweeney is dragged into a cliche chick-flick shopping montage. Mrs. Lovett has undergone a radical change in appearance and now looks like a cross between Chris Crocker and Elle Woods.)

Mrs. Lovett: Shoes. Let's get some shoes. Oh my god, shoes. These shoes are three hundred dollars.

Sweeney: I don't have that much money, lady. When I was in Australia, they paid us in jellybeans. You know what jellybeans can't pay for? Shoes.

Mrs. Lovett: (oblivious) Shoes. Let's get some shoes. Oh my god, shoes. Let's party.

Sweeney: Oh lord. Please stop now.

Mrs. Lovett: Surely you can't be serious!

Sweeney: My name is Sweeney, not Shirley. I think you need to work on that speech impediment of yours. Or are you just drunk again?

Mrs. Lovett: Gin. Let's get some gin. Oh my god, gin...

(Suddenly they are back in the depressing, dreary marketplace, much to Sweeney's relief. The Beadle is lurking from behind a column. He is eating nachos in an overtly sexual fashion, and looking more like an obese rodent than ever.)

Beadle: Tengo gusto de ninos pequenos, ellos hago me la sensacion tan buena en mis pantalones. (Golly gee, I wonder what's going to happen next?)

(Mrs. Lovett pulls out her shopping list from her ample cleavage. In his head, Sweeney keeps repeating his mantra, which is multiple variations on "I must stay faithful to my wife and not stare at the luscious boobies of the lady who happens to live downstairs from me.")

Mrs. Lovett: Hmm...let's see...gin...more gin...hair dye...eyeliner...oh, and we have to go watch this one guy who sells hair stuff, cause his pants are tight.

Sweeney: (whines) Do we _have _to? I wanna go home and watch the Wiggles.

(Suddenly, a young boy in a blonde wig appears on the stage. His name is Toby, and he was raised by stage parents. He is also one of those annoyingly cute children who star in a lot of commercials. Right now, he is working on making the transition to the Disney Channel, and after that, rehab, as he has already developed an alcohol problem. As soon as he opens his mouth, the collective heart of the audience melts due to his extreme preciousness.)

Toby: Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?  
Do you wake every morning all flustered and sad because all of the stress is just driving you mad?  
Life seems horribly bad?  
Well, ladies and gentlemen, from now on you can waken at ease!  
You will never again chew off all of your nails.  
You will never again feel like you have failed.  
Gentlemen, you are about to see someone incredibly high!  
Please just give it a try!

'Twas Pirelli's purple drank of wonder,  
That's what makes life funner,  
True, sir, true.  
Lil Wayne just drinks this stuff like water,  
And so does his daughter, though she's two.

(He shoves a bottle of the cough syrup/Hawaiian Punch mixture at an old man, who looks incredibly confused.)

Toby: How about a bottle, mister? It's much less expensive than speed.

Old Dude: Pardon me, young sir, but what in Heaven's name is a "Lil Wayne?"

(Toby, because he thinks the old guy looks creepy, ignores him.)

Toby: Does Pirelli's eat away your brain, sir?  
Those are stupid claims and all untrue.  
Just because your memory is failing,  
Don't go around blaming all the drugs!

Sweeney: Hey, why does it smell like lemons?

Mrs. Lovett: Yeah...I think someone might be getting a little slap happy with the air freshener. HEY! KNOCK IT OFF! IT'S ALLERGY SEASON!

Toby: Buy Pirelli's purple drank, you'll see that  
Soon you'll dance with glee the whole day through.  
Try Pirelli's, when they see you're high, sir,  
You will get arrested, like T.I.!

Mrs. Lovett: (raises hand) Um. Excuse me, T.I. was not arrested for possession of drugs. It was for possession of lots of guns, or something. Like, _duh. _You need to check your sources, foo', cause that was just wiggity wiggity wack.

(Toby, out of desperation, hands a bottle to Mrs. Lovett.)

Toby: This is not Lemon Pledge, my friend. I promise you.

Sweeney: What is this?

Mrs. Lovett: (takes a drink) Oh, goody! Mike's Hard Lemonade! This has gin in it, right?

Toby: (begins to panic) Let Pirelli's take you on a trip, sir -

Sweeney: Your accent is slipping, I can tell.

Toby: YES, get Pirelli's, try a bottle of it. Stoners seem to love it -

Mrs. Lovett: Like your mom!

Toby: (drops accent, reveals his true roots) I'M SORRY YOU GUYS! I'M REALLY AMERICAN! WAAAAAAAAHHH! (bursts into tears, flees offstage)

Mrs. Lovett: (rolls eyes) Wow. Talk about emotional problems.

(From his column, the Beadle watches in extreme amusement.)

Beadle: Ese niño pequeño era absolutamente atractivo. Quiero hacerle el amor durante toda la noche. (Silly people and their silly drugs. Will they never learn that intoxication doesn't solve anything?)

**Why is Toby so easily upset? (Sources suggest it could be due to a recessive emo gene.) Is Sweeney REALLY named Shirley? (Go watch Airplane.) And why does Sweeney like the Wiggles? (Really...I thought he'd have better taste than that.) Find out who will get voted off the island in the next episode of Spoofy Todd, on CBS Friday nights at 9/8 Central!  
**


	4. In Which We Say Hello To Mr Tightpants

**[A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far! I really appreciate it. *gives everyone meat pies and gummy worms*]**

**SCENE FOUR: In Which We Say Hello To Mr. Tightpants  
**  
(After Toby runs offstage, weeping about the shame of his origins, the man most of the assembled crowd has been eagerly waiting to see dramatically bursts out of the curtains. His name is Signor Pirelli, but almost everyone calls him Borat, and only Mrs. Lovett calls him Mr. Tightpants. She developed a little crush on him after watching one of his infomercials late at night. The nickname she gives him is for good reason, because his pants are so tight they're...well...tights. And also very, very bright blue. It is Sweeney's privately held opinion that Pirelli resembles Violet Beauregarde pre-blueberryization and post-hormone therapy. Also, his hair sort of resembles Princess Leia's. The effect is altogether not very masculine, but extremely intimidating.)

Pirelli: Bonjour - uh, I mean, Hola - uh, I mean, _Bon giorno, _ladies and germs! My-a name-a is-a Signor-a Pirelli-a, and-a I-a am-a Italian-a.

Sweeney: Why are you saying "a" after every word?

Pirelli: Dramatic effect, dear boy. ANYHOO...a, I demand-a to know-a who called-a my elixir-a Mike's Hard-a Lemonade-a!

(Mrs. Lovett grabs Sweeney's hand and raises it high in the air.)

Mrs. Lovett: Ooh! Pick him! Pick him!

Sweeney: (through gritted teeth) I'm going to take you to a nice, big, lovely sea, and then I'm going to leave you in the middle of it. Do you know what's in the sea? Piranhas and sharks. And they get awful hungry.

Mrs. Lovett: That's very kind of you, dear. I'm so grateful that you take the time to indulge my every fantasy. (squeals and clasps hands)

Sweeney: (muttering to himself) Dear God, she's even stupider than she looks...Anyway, yes, Mr. Pirelli, your elixir is fake. Generally when one buys purple drank, they expect it to be purple. There is a vast difference between purple and yellow, unless you are colorblind, which I'm starting to think you are because your outfit is truly revolting. Oh, and my landlady told me to thank you for the hard lemonade...

Pirelli: (enraged) That's-a enough-a! In the name-a of the moon-a, I will-a punish-a you-a! Is shave-off time, yes?

Sweeney: Sure. But only if you stop quoting Sailor Moon. Also, why are you talking in Kazakhastan...ish...ese?

Pirelli: As I said before, dramatic effect. Okay-a, it's-a a deal-a.

Sweeney: Will Beadle Bamford be the judge?

Beadle: Sí, pero solamente si esta competencia implica a niños desnudos. (Of course!)

Pirelli: Why-a is he talking-a like-a he is-a from-a Burritoland-a?

Sweeney: Dramatic effect. (Oh, the sarcasm! Cuts like a knife! Or a razor...)

(The shave-off begins.)

Pirelli: Pirelli is the best barber in the world, all the other barbers make love to little girls...

Sweeney: HEY! Lucy was 18! At least that's what she told me...

Pirelli: (is not doing a very good job shaving, and keeps stabbing the guy's face) Pirelli number one exporter of potassium. All the other barbers have inferior potassium...

Sweeney: I'm sorry I don't like bananas. There's just no pleasing you, is there?

Pirelli: Oh yes. There is pleasing me. At least your mom was last night. OHHH! BURN!

Sweeney: (gets on with it already and shaves his guy in like .2 seconds, because he has super speed powers) I'm not going to dignify that with a response.

Pirelli: - COME GRASP THE MIGHTY PENIS OF PIRELLI! FROM JUNCTION WITH TESTES TO - oh, snap. I didn't win, did I?

Beadle: Las patatas son deliciosas y su pene es enorme! (And the winner is...Todd!)

Mrs. Lovett: How come people think Spanish is going to make everything funnier? It really doesn't work.

Sweeney: (accepts shiny trophy and dances with glee) I won I won I won I won! HA! I'M KING OF THE WORLD! AND STUFF LIKE THAT!

Mrs. Lovett: (takes him by the arm and leads him away) Come on, honey buns. We can go home now and watch the Wiggles and...drink more hard lemonade...

Sweeney: (switches from manic to depressive) Why? We're all just going to die anyway...

Mrs. Lovett: ...Mon dieu. Oh crap, now I'm talking funny too. I think something is wrong with me.

Sweeney: You can say that again.

Mrs. Lovett: I think something is wrong with me.

Sweeney: (annoyed) STOP BEING SUCH A LITERALIST!

Beadle: Oh, Senor Apretados Pantalones, usted enciende para arriba mi vida. (Something very strange is going on around here...)

**Why was this installment so short? (Because your dear author is lazy and easily distracted by her shiny new iPod.) Why are foreign languages infecting the characters like a sexy, spicy virus? (Because the Beadle got addicted to Dora The Explorer.) And more importantly, what the frick is going to happen next? The next installment of Spoofy Todd will reveal almost everything, except for who you're going to marry and why you have so much body hair.**


	5. In Which We Say Goodbye to Mr Tightpants

**[A/N: I'm sorry the updates have become less frequent and much shorter. You see, there's this game called FusionFall that's like World of Warcraft but with Cartoon Network people, and it likes to devour hours of my spare time...why yes, I am a dork.]**

SCENE FIVE: In Which We Say Goodbye To Mr. Tightpants

(After the disastrous shopping expedition, Sweeney goes up to his room for an extended emo session, which involves painting his fingernails black, listening to...whatever those darn kids like these days, and making out with pictures of his dead wife. However, this is interrupted because Mr. Borat Tightpants has come for a visit with his annoying, gap-toothed little child star.)

Sweeney: (quietly sobbing about how no one loves him) What do you _want? _Everyone needs to just leave me alone to wallow in my self-pity!

Pirelli: We need to talk. (winks)

Sweeney: ...Okay.

(They go back upstairs to Sweeney's room, presumably to emo together or something. Mrs. Lovett, noticing that Toby looks remarkably anorexic, suddenly switches to Italian Mother mode and resolves to feed him pies until he explodes.)

Toby: Dude. I can't eat that. I'm on the South Beach Diet. Besides, I'm going to audition for Work House Musical 2 next week and Disney stars have to be really skinny and really hot!

Mrs. Lovett: (duct tapes Toby to his chair) You're gonna eat it. You're gonna eat it and like it!

Toby: (cannot resist this golden opportunity) That's what sheeeee said.

Mrs. Lovett: Yes, that is what she said. Because I am a woman. Hear me roar. And then join me for a girls' night in.

Toby: Will there be gin?

Mrs. Lovett: Oh yes. There will be gin. (DUN DUN DUN!)

(Remarkably, no one notices the blood dripping from the ceiling or the loud noises coming from upstairs, where Sweeney is bashing Pirelli's head in with a teapot because he refused to join him in his emo anti-party.)

Sweeney: (enraged) I'M A LITTLE TEAPOT...TALL AND SKINNY...AND I'M GOING TO KILL YOU...that's not how it goes, is it?

Pirelli: (choking on own blood) Gurgle gurgle. Google.

Sweeney: Google, huh? You don't say...

(Sweeney googles the lyrics to I'm A Little Teapot, but instead comes up with a lot of porn and spam and porn made out of Spam.)

Sweeney: ...My God, you're sick.

Pirelli: (still choking on own blood) Gurgle giggity giggity gurgle.

Sweeney: Okay, enough of you. Into the big trunk you go!

(Meanwhile, Toby and Mrs. Lovett are enjoying their girls' night in, which involves kareoke, lots of alcohol, and ballerina costumes.)

Mrs. Lovett: (singing) GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN!

Toby: (being forced to sing) THEY JUST WANNA! THEY JUST WANNA - hey, why is there ketchup on the ceiling?

Mrs. Lovett: No idea, dear. You could try licking it off.

Toby: You could try licking my -

Mrs. Lovett: You stay here and I will go investigate the ketchup spillage. Don't drink all the gin.

(Toby, being Toby, interprets this as "Drink all the gin, then go outside and flash people.")

Mrs. Lovett: (bursts into Sweeney's room and sees a bunch of red stuff on his shirt) Oh. Silly me. It wasn't ketchup, it was barbecue sauce. (sees hand sticking out of chest) Ohhhhh crap. I guessed wrong, didn't I?

(She opens the chest and bursts into tears upon seeing Mr. Tightpants, who she had romantic fantasies about when she watched him on that late-night infomercial, brutally maimed. The tears last for about five seconds. Then she steals his wallet.)

Sweeney: And you call ME manic-depressive.

Mrs. Lovett: I'm just taking advantage of the opportunity presented to me. Speaking of which, sexy times now?

Sweeney: (violently angry, as usual) WHAT PART OF NO DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?

Mrs. Lovett: The N and the O part. Everything else I get just fine.

**How come Toby thinks he can get into a Disney Channel movie? More to the point, why does he want to be in a Disney Channel movie? Is Pirelli really dead, or just resting? These questions will definitely not be answered in the next update of Spoofy Todd. Instead, we will give you more, because your dear author is quite generous with such things.**


	6. In Which It Is Makeover Time

**[A/N: Thank you to everyone who is making this story somewhat popular! Happy New Year! -gives everyone sparkling cider, or sparkling gin-]**

SCENE SIX: In Which It Is Makeover Time

(Severus Sna- I mean, Judge Turpin, is sitting in court, taking points from Gryffindor and sentencing small children to death. His Latino pool boy, Beadle Bamford, is gazing up at him adoringly and daydreaming about licking nacho cheese off his pecs.)

Turpin: A MILLION POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!

Little Kid: (weeps) No, sir, please! Anything but that!

Turpin: Anything?

Little Kid: (sniffles and nods)

Turpin: TO THE GALLOWS, YOU LITTLE FIEND! HA HA HA! HA HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Little Kid: Wait! Wait! I meant... (is dragged away)

(The Judge and the Beadle leave the courthouse. The Beadle is hoping that Turpin will surprise him with a romantic night out. Turpin is hoping that the Beadle will mysteriously die in a fire.)

Beadle: Oh, la trementina del juez, me hace el amor dulce en esta club. (That was amazing how you made that kid cry. Can we get married now, sir?)

Turpin: Nope. Sorry. I mean, I understand that you're rather fond of me, cause you're my pool boy, but Johanna has a hotter body than you, so...

Beadle: Usted esta casando a esa puta?! (Aw, darn.)

Turpin: Yeah. I asked her yesterday. It was awesome. I was all like "JOHANNAAAAAAAA", and she was all like "WHAAAAATTT", and I was all like "MARRY MEEEEE BABY". Then I sang that one song that the guy sings in 10 Things I Hate About You, but since I'm not Heath Ledger or the sailor lady, it...didn't go over _quite _so well, but I took it as a yes.

Beadle: Cáseme y podemos volver a mi tierra nativa y hacer imposible a bebés feos. (You know what Heath Ledger and the sailor lady have that you don't?)

Turpin: Ovaries?

Beadle: Y entonces podemos tener orgías nocturnas con los bailarines de sexo masculino exóticos. (No. They're clean and attractive. Also they don't go out raping women at ungodly hours of the night, but...that's definitely beside the point.)

Turpin: I thought women went for the scruffy "appearing soon on To Catch A Predator" look.

Beadle: Después de lo cual conseguiremos en la tina caliente. Desnudo. (Nope. Sorry. Look, dude, just go get a shave from this one guy. He won a contest. It's totally legit, I promise.)

Turpin: The last time you told me that, it took me months to recover. No more plastic surgery in South America, _ever._Beadle: Entonces abrace toda la noche hasta nosotros caen dormido, como pequeños gatitos. (Please get this makeover. PLEASE. For me?!) (makes puppy eyes, which looks intensely disturbing)

Turpin: Oh alright. But I draw the line at guyliner.

(Meanwhile, Toby and Mrs. Lovett are recovering from their Girls' Night In.)

Mrs. Lovett: (is having trouble walking straight) Urk. Ow. Never...doing...this...again. 'Least not until tonight...I think I'sh shtill a little drunk. (falls over) Woopshie.

Toby: (is considerably less hungover, because his liver is apparently made of iron) If you can't outdrink a 9 year old, then I agree with the creepy barber man. You do indeed have problems.

Mrs. Lovett: Oh. By the way, you want to come live with us since Mr. Tightpants is...uh...permanently indisposed?

Toby: Will there be lots of gin?

Mrs. Lovett: Duh.

(She goes upstairs to ask Sweeney if he has any painkillers.)

Mrs. Lovett: Yo. Mr. T. Where the Midol at?

Sweeney: SHIZZAT, FOO'! I DON'T HAVE TIME FO YO SHENANIGANS! TURPIZZLE AND B-DIDDY BE COMIN'!

Mrs. Lovett: (has no idea what he just said, having only learned elementary ebonics) In English, please...oh, also, you have barbecue sauce on your shirt.

Sweeney: (looks down) Oh. Crap. You're right. Can I borrow one of your shirts?

(Unfortunately, the only shirt that Mrs. Lovett has in Sweeney's size is pink, sparkly, and says "Team Edward" on it.)

Sweeney: Never mind, I'll just put this jacket on instead.

(The jacket is pink, sparkly, and says "Team Edward" on it. Mrs. Lovett, satisfied, goes back downstairs to search for Midol. The Judge and the Beadle enter.)

Turpin: Hey, dude. My pool boy told me this was a good place to come to get makeovers.

Sweeney: (gets a manic glint in his eye) I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU - I mean, just sit over here, Judge Turpin.

Turpin: (sits down) Hey, how do you know who I am? Are you the insanely hot barber that I had shipped off to Australia to live with the kangaroos?

Sweeney: Oh, gosh, of course not.

Turpin: (fails to understand sarcasm) Okay, good, because the third stage of my evil plan against him is almost complete. First I sent him off to Kangaroo Land, then I raped his wife, and now I'm going to get it on with his teenage daughter! HA HA HA! HA HA HA! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Sweeney: Why are you laughing like Mandark?

Turpin: What's a Man Dork?

Sweeney: Your face. Which I'm holding a sharp object to. Don't make any...sudden moves. (giggles)

Turpin: You know what? Women are awesome.

Sweeney: (overenthusiastic) I KNOW, RIGHT?!

Turpin: Pretty women especially.

Sweeney: (bursts into song) PRETTY WOMAN! WALKIN' DOWN THE STREET!

(Suddenly, Julia Roberts appears and smiles. Her horse teeth scare the crap out of Turpin, who runs for the door. However, Turpin's vision is not so great, and what he thought was Julia Roberts in thigh-high hooker boots...is really Anthony Hope in thigh-high hooker boots.)

Anthony: (bursts through the door) Mr. Todd! Help me overdramatically reveal my plan to marry Johanna in front of her - (sees Judge Turpin) Well hello there...

Turpin: You'll do nothing of the kind, lady-boy!

Beadle: Oh, muchacho de marinero, cómo usted enciende para arriba mi vida. (Oh my. This is quite a disturbing new development. The drama! The drama! I SIMPLY CAN'T BEAR IT!)

(Turpin storms out, dragging the Beadle behind him.)

Sweeney: Lady-boy?

Anthony: What, my dearest?

Sweeney: I want to slowly strip the flesh from your bones, set it on fire, and then make a chair out of the rest of you.

Anthony: Thanks for the help, sir! I'll just be going now.

(Anthony yanks open the door and flees for his life. As soon as Anthony leaves, Mrs. Lovett enters.)

Mrs. Lovett: (cheerily) Oh, I remember where I put the painkillers! In your underwear drawer!

Sweeney: (puts his head in his hands) Help me Sexy Jesus...

**Will Anthony succeed in marrying Johanna Montana? Is Sexy Jesus really going to help Sweeney? And is Anthony REALLY Julia Roberts? Find out next time in the next apparently hilarious chapter of Spoofy Todd!**

[A/N: Mandark is from Dexter's Lab, in case you're curious. I remember the weirdest stuff - I know everything about 90s cartoons but I can't remember how to do things in math. I can has selective memory problems?]


	7. In Which Rainbows Are Tasted

**SCENE SEVEN: In Which Rainbows Are Tasted**

(Mrs. Lovett sits in the barber chair. Sweeney holds a razor to her neck with one hand. He's holding a digital camera with the other, because they're taking really emo Myspace pictures.)

Sweeney: We all deserve to die. Stabby rip stab stab.

Mrs. Lovett: Note to self - never again let Sweeney go on YouTube. He takes things far too seriously for his own good.

Sweeney: You're missing the point! Life is a black abyss of...blackness! Ooh, that was a good one, I think I'll write that down. (takes out Handy Dandy Notebook)

Mrs. Lovett: Note to self - never again let Sweeney watch Blue's Clues while drunk. Hilarity will not ensue.

Sweeney: Must...kill...everyone...

Mrs. Lovett: Well, have fun with that, dearie. Can you remove your razor from my neck now, please? I think we got enough pictures.

Sweeney: Oh. Sure. Okay.

(Suddenly, we are teleported into Sweeney's personal fantasy sequence where he wanders around killing random people and making overdramatic facial expressions.)

Sweeney: (is suddenly well versed in the language of LOLcats) I CAN HAS A VENGEANCE! I CAN HAS SALVAAAASHUN!

(He holds his razors up in what is supposed to be a threatening gesture. Just at that moment, a thunderstorm starts, and Sweeney effectively becomes a human lightning rod.)

Sweeney: (is toastified by lightning) Damn me and my dramatic impulses.

(Then he decides to contradict himself and do this weird kneeling thing which is even more dramatic than the whole hey-let's-get-struck-by-lightning idea. All the fangirls crawl out of the woodwork and ogle his crotch. Then, not content with crotch-ogling alone, they move closer. And closer. And closer...)

Sweeney: (is suddenly grabbed by a million shrieking pink-clad thirteen-year-olds) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DO NOT WANT!

(The personal fantasy sequence ends. Sweeney is back in Real Life, in Mrs. Lovett's kitchen, still screaming.)

Mrs. Lovett: (impressed) I have an idea.

Sweeney: (thinks he knows what's coming) If it contains the words "sexy", "times", and "now", I know what the answer is, and it's not yes.

Mrs. Lovett: Is the answer maybe?!

Sweeney: No.

Mrs. Lovett: Dang it. Well, my actual idea involved starting a screamo band, since you just displayed some truly impressive lung power...

Sweeney: No.

Mrs. Lovett: Okay, how about this - before you turn into Sweeney The Homicidal Maniac, how about we figure out what to do with Pirelli the Corpsie upstairs?

Sweeney: No.

Mrs. Lovett: Don't be such a Debbie Downer.

Sweeney: No.

Mrs. Lovett: Is that the only thing you know how to say?!

Sweeney: ...No.

Mrs. Lovett: (shakes her head) My god, you're hopeless.

Sweeney: What more could there possibly be to do with a dead body except - OH MY GOD.

Mrs. Lovett: Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Sweeney: I sure as hell hope not.

Mrs. Lovett: How about we chop up the body and make it into Hot Pockets and sell it so we can get money for gin and more gin and triple strength gin and...

Sweeney: Oh, thank god. So you weren't planning to screw the dead.

Mrs. Lovett: (horrified) How crazy do you think I am?!

Sweeney: Very.

Mrs. Lovett: Says the homicidal barber to his overly helpful landlady who only wants to see him happy...and devoid of clothing. But shhh, that last part's a seeeeecret.

(They begin to sing about making people into pies. Or Hot Pockets. Or things of that nature. The dancing and the slight fondling during this scene make all the rabid Sweenett shippers wet their pants in joy and squeal about how OMG, THEY ARE TOUCHING, IT MUST BE TWOO WUV.)

Sweeney: (looks out window, spies Clay Aiken) What is that?

Mrs. Lovett: It's gay. Now everyone can taste the rainbow.

Sweeney: (realizes the implications of this) So THAT'S what Skittles are made out of?!

(The singing continues, as do the puns.)

Mrs. Lovett: Here's the lady from Alaska, she's such a disaster, have one.

Sweeney: Put her on a bun...well, you never know if we're going to pun! Also, Sarah Palin jokes are so last year.

Mrs. Lovett: I can't help it. I really can't. "I can see Russia from my house..." (snickers)

Sweeney: If you don't shut up, you insufferable woman, I'm going to gouge your eyes out with a chainsaw, and you'll never see anything again, least of all Russia.

Mrs. Lovett: (flings her arms around him) Awww, you're so sweet!

Sweeney: (is being squeezed to death) A little help over here...that'd be great...thank you...urk...spine is gone...bye-bye, spine...

**Will Sweeney ever stop being a Debbie Downer? (Signs point to no.) Where is Toby? (Try again later.) And why am I using a Magic 8 Ball to answer the unanswerable? (I like bananas.) When you review, ask pointless random questions, and they may end up in the next installment of Spoofy Todd, because your dear author is running out of ideas faster than Mrs. Lovett is running out of gin.**


	8. In Which I Answer Your Burning Questions

**SCENE EIGHT: In Which I Answer Your Burning Questions**

Where did girly-boy go? - silver and rubies  
Girly-boy went to go find some nachos for Beadle Bamford. It's taking him a long time because Anthony's sense of direction is...ehhh...not the greatest, shall we say? And also he hasn't discovered that there are no Taco Bells in London yet.

**will toby be "right" for the part on the disney channel or will he throw a fit at the result? - silver and rubies  
**Wait and see. I don't want to ruin the surprise!

**Well, what would happen if Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett and everyone else had Facebook? What types of hijinks would ensue then? Although you already dabbled in MySpace...or Wal-Mart! What if something dramatic happened in Wal-Mart? Like "By The Sea." "By the Clearance Rack." - Christine Ruud  
**  
**SCENARIO THE FIRST**: In Which Facebook Exists In The 1800s

Mrs. Lovett: (on Facebook) (Pokes Sweeney)

Sweeney: (also on Facebook) (does not know what the hell a "poke" is)

Mrs. Lovett: (Pokes Sweeney 309482948023984 times)

Sweeney: (blocks her)

Mrs. Lovett: (cries in a corner for about five seconds until she remembers that she installed the Tetris application, and goes to play that instead)

Anthony: (stalks Johanna in cyberspace)

Johanna: (is stalked, and is also actively trying to prevent Turpin from installing parental controls on the computer)

Toby: (has an expensive addiction to Club Penguin)

Lucy: (is one of those people who TyPeS LiiKe DiiZ and likes to IM random people for no reason)

Turpin: (is looking at 15 year old girls' party pictures, in which they're all wasted and in various stages of undress)

Beadle: (is trying and failing to learn English)

**SCENARIO THE SECOND**: In Which Everyone Goes To Wal-Mart

(Everyone, like the title says, is at Wal-Mart. Mrs. Lovett brought the List Of 100 Things To Do At Wal-Mart. Toby brought the gin. Sweeney brought the crazy. And Anthony and Johanna brought their vast and incredible stupidity.)

Mrs. Lovett: Okay. Anyone want to come help me do the first thing?

Sweeney: If the first thing is sexy times...not gonna happen. Just sayin'.

Mrs. Lovett: God, what is it with you and sexy times?

Sweeney: YOU STARTED IT! (whips out razors)

Wal-Mart employee: Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step outside the building...

Sweeney: Shut up or I cut you, bitch.

Wal-Mart employee: You shut up before I call security on your crazy ass!

Sweeney: (goes into Sassy Gangster Girl mode) Oh no you didn't girlfraaaand! (snaps fingers)

Wal-Mart employee: (decides this guy has lost it and calls security)

(Meanwhile, Anthony and Johanna are hiding inside a rack of clothes in the women's plus-size department, waiting for people to come along so they can scream PICK ME, PICK ME!)

Anthony: It's really...hot in here.

Johanna: No it's not.

Anthony: We should...take off all our clothes.

Johanna: The very idea! We're not even married yet! (bursts out of clothing rack) Excuse me, there is a man inside there trying to besmirch my virginity.

Anthony: She so wants it! Don't listen to her!

Wal-Mart employee: (has already had to deal with one crazy person) Get up off the floor, lady-boy, and take your girlfriend outside. And don't come back. Ever.

Johanna: Don't you mean _future betrothed?_Wal-Mart employee: Honey, stop using all these crazy-ass words. You're confusing me.

(Meanwhile, Toby is running around putting condoms in old people's shopping carts. He's very happy.)

Toby: WHEEEEEE!

(Then the Wal-Mart lady catches him and he gets kicked out, too.)

Toby: NOT WHEEEEEE!

**will Sweenett fans Finally be happy? - Teddy-scares  
**Not until they get what they want. Which is never going to happen. Unless Sondheim decides to write a sequel a la Hamlet 2. (Rock me, rock me, rock me sexy Jesus...)

**So, why does Mrs. Lovett want sex so bad, i mean we all know the power of hands...hahahah...hmm..jkjk:]] seriously. And uhh will Sweeney ever get laid? - lilNellBell  
**Because she hasn't gotten any in about fifteen years ever since Albert died in the mysterious Shovel Incident, Hello Kitty vibrators haven't been invented yet, and who WOULDN'T want to sex up Johnny Depp? Also, Sweeney will, eventually, under protest, get laid. But he'll not-so-secretly enjoy it, just like how he not-so-secretly enjoys watching the Wiggles and singing Celine Dion songs in the shower.

**In the next chapter:**

**- Things will happen. Oh yes, they will...**


	9. In Which Johannaaaaaaaaaa!

**[A/N: Sorry for the long wait, you guys! I've been so busy and stressed lately, but I finally had some time to write, so here you go. This was kind of hard. I hope it doesn't suck.]**

SCENE NINE: In Which Johaaaannnaaaaaa!

(Johanna is carefully putting 309428394803984 dresses into her jumbo-size Juicy Couture suitcase. She's conveniently forgetting that there's a hole in her wall, and certain people can quite clearly see that she's running away and apprehend her before Stuff Happens.)

Green Finch: Tweet tweet. Tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet. Cheep. (God, what a moron. Why doesn't she pack something practical, like pants, or a gun to shoot Turpin with?)

Linnet Bird: Tweet. Tweet. Cheep. Tweet tweet. (For plot-related reasons.)

Green Finch: Cheep cheep tweet? (Wait, there's a plot?)

(Green Finch and Linnet Bird spontaneously combust. Again.)

Johanna: Why do they keep doing that?

(Turpin wrenches open the door and storms inside. He does a lot of storming, kind of like the Pacific Northwest. Except smaller and less likely to contain sparkly vampires.)

Turpin: JOHANNA! STOP BEING SUCH A HOEBAG!

Johanna: Daddy! Stop being such a creepy rapist!

Turpin: I am shocked and appalled, madam. Get thee to the crazy house!

Johanna: (glares) Make me, bitch.

(Senor Beadle leaps out from a corner and growls. He still has some nachos stuck in his hair from his wild Mexican food shenanigans with Anthony twenty minutes prior.)

Turpin: Oh, Beadle Bamford! Commence the raping!

Beadle: Si, senor. (If you don't know what this means, please do everyone a favor and go back to school. The world laughs at your stupidity. Also, I want a bagel.)

(The raping commences. So does the dragging into the carriage and the weeping and the begging and the taking to the asylum. As all this is going on, Anthony is taking his customary post-orgy evening jog and rounds the corner just in time to see Johanna leave.)

Anthony: (jogs up to the Judge) What have you done with my JOHAAAAAAAANNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?

Turpin: I sent her to a lesbian boarding school in Switzerland. She never really loved you, lady-boy. You're far too butch for her. By the way, those spandex shorts look quite nice on you. (leers)

Anthony: Why thank you, good sir. (Runs after the carriage) I'LL FEEL YOU, JOHANNA! EVEN IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO! I AM IN THE DARK BESIDE YOU, I AM HIDING IN YOUR CLOSET...

Turpin: (watches Anthony's tight ass as he jogs away) Yum-o.

(Suddenly, in a flash of lightning, Rachael Ray appears.)

Rachael Ray: You rang?

Turpin: (looks Rachael Ray up and down) You have a vagina? Okay, right this way please... (makes creepy eyebrow motions)

(Meanwhile, Anthony is jogging around London, looking remarkably like Chad Feldheimer from Burn After Reading. One only hopes that he will not meet a similar fate as poor Chad, who was actually hiding in someone's closet in an attempt to feel them, but Chad's Johanna was in possession of male genitalia, and also a gun.)

Anthony: (at a volume that could shatter glass) I FEEL YOU, JOHAAAAAANNNAAAAAAA! COME PEEL MY BANANA. (suddenly lapses into a Stewie Griffin voice) Oooh, that was _naughty._

(Suddenly, the crazy homeless beggar lady shuffles up. She still looks like Squidward, but now with added zombification.)

Anthony: Listen, lady. I don't have any more Tic Tacs. Go annoy the creepy skunk dude and his talking, baking prostitute. I don't have time for this, I'm trying to find my true love while looking good in running shorts, which is a VERY HARD JOB, okay?

(Anthony breaks down and sobs. The crazy lady stands there making the "WTF?" face. Eventually, she comes up with an idea.)

Beggar Lady: La la la. La la laaaa la la. Mumble mumble. Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica. Whee!

Anthony: (begins to understand) So what you're saying is, in order for sexy times to happen, I have to break her out of the insane asylum by pretending to be Tyra Banks?

Beggar Lady: (nods)

Anthony: Come on, that's never gonna work.

Beggar Lady: Mumble mumble. Whee!

Anthony: I already disguised myself as Julia Roberts once. It's not going to work again.

(Anthony jogs off, tossing the beggar lady some Tic Tacs for her trouble.)

**Shock! Horror! Egad! Gasping noises! Will Anthony disguise himself as Julia Roberts, Tyra Banks, or something completely different? Will Johanna meet Angelina Jolie in the asylum and embark on a series of strange adventures, a la Girl Interrupted? Has your dear author completely lost her mind? Find out in the next installment of Spoofy Todd, which, thanks to finals and stress, is taking a very long time to complete...  
**


	10. In Which The Murdering Begins In Earnest

**[A/N: The reason why I parodied "On My Own" in this scene is because I have to sing it for my Les Mis audition on Tuesday and I'm super nervous. However, now I will probably screw up and sing the dirty lyrics instead. Oh well. Wish me luck! And don't forget to review!]**

**SCENE TEN: In Which The Murdering Begins In Earnest**

* * *

(While Anthony is jogging around the streets of London, searching for someone to "peel his banana", Sweeney is having himself a little murder spree in celebration of...something. We're not quite sure what.)

Sweeney: And are you beautiful and pale, with yellow hair, like her?

Random Dude The First: Gosh, what is it with everyone in this story having yellow hair? For the last time, it's called blonde!

Sweeney: (slips into his Sean Connery accent again.) Blonde. Jamesh Blonde. Haha, sorry. Where was I? Oh. Right. The slicing and the murdering.

(Sweeney slits the guy's throat. Naturally, blood is everywhere. Your dear author makes a comment about how the newly corpsified Random Dude can now be a Pez dispenser, and your dear author's father restrains the urge to hurl. The magical chair does its thing with the stuff and the corpse falls into the bake house. Hooray.)

Sweeney: (is shaving a man that bears great resemblance to an ostrich) And if you're beautiful, what then, with yellow hair like wheat?

Ostrich Man: (bursts into tears) Stop reminding me of how ugly I am! It's not my fault I was dropped on my face as a chi...urk...(dies)

(The lever is pulled and Ostrich Man falls into the bake house as well, this time with an added gory discretion shot of brains hitting the floor.)

Sweeney: I think we shall not meet again, my turtledove, my sweet... (apparently, was harboring a crush on said Ostrich Man)

(Then Sweeney goes to the window and stares at things, twitching all the while.)

Sweeney: Goodbye Johanna! You're gone, and so's my mind. I'm fine, Johanna, but that's what they all say and then they get institutionalized. Just like you. Lady-boy is trying to break you out of there right now, though, so I'm sure everything will be alright. Yes, I'm quite aware I'm talking to my razor. Mrs. Lovett, the sexy times will commence at never o'clock. Also, Toby's audition for the Disney Channel is this evening. I hope he gets in, because gin is getting more expensive as of late. So is Mike's Hard Lemonade, and tequila, and I'm an alcoholic, aren't I?

(The razor makes no reply, being a razor and having no mouth.)

Sweeney: (clears throat) Anyhoo, where were we?

(He goes back to shaving/killing people and singing about his daughter/razor. Meanwhile, Toby and Mrs. Lovett are preparing for the Disney Channel auditions...)

Mrs. Lovett: (is transforming Toby into a Zac Efron lookalike) Now remember, be polite, don't ask questions, don't bring your gin flask, and if the nice gentleman asks you to give him a blowjob, you do as you're told.

Toby: (looks like a street urchin caught in the headlights) Eep.

Mrs. Lovett: Now, from the top...

(Toby begins to sing "On My Own", from Les Mis. The other version.)

Toby: (wistfully) On my own, pretending he's inside me. On my own, I touch myself til morning -

Mrs. Lovett: The regular version, sweetheart. Save the homoerotic one for the other auditions.

Toby: What other auditions?

Mrs. Lovett: The...never mind. Just shut up and let me whore you out so we can get some more gin money!

Toby: Okay.

Mrs. Lovett: Now, let's try the song again....

Toby: Without him, I feel his arms around me. And when I feel sad I close my eyes and I am SEXYYYYYYYYYYY. (pumps fist)  
In my pants, my hands are firmly grasping. And I know the herpes he will give me.

Mrs. Lovett: (looks like a stalkerish baker in the headlights) Eep.

Toby: ...AND ALL I SEE IS SODOMY, FOREVER AND FOREVER!  
And I know, it's only in my mind. That I'm pleasuring myself to thoughts of him.  
And although I know he's forty-five, still I say! There's a way for us!

Mrs. Lovett: Who are you talking about, exactly?

Toby: Judge Turpin. Isn't he dreeeeeamyyyy?

(His eyes turn into little hearts and he sighs. Mrs. Lovett gags and runs out of the room to be sick. Meanwhile, your dearest author is getting sick of typing "meanwhile", but back to the ranch it is, except instead of being on a ranch, the creepy beggar woman is outside of Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, being twitchy and spouting conspiracy theories to anyone who will listen.)

Beggar Woman: There, there! Somebody somebody look up there! Didn't I tell you, UFOs! Aliens are real!

(She grabs a random passerby. Because she hasn't brushed her teeth in fifteen years, her breath smells horrible, and so the passerby recoils in fear, disgust, and alarm by being grabbed by someone who looks like Squidward.)

Beggar Woman: Quick, sir, run and tell! Warn them all of the E.T's spell! There it is, there it is, the shiny ship! Aliens are real!

Passerby: I liked your conspiracy theory about pudding much, much better. (flees for his life)

Beggar Woman: Don't tell it to the Beadle cause he went to Las Vegas, help, fiend! Aliens are real!

* * *

**Why does Toby think he's in a different musical? More importantly, why does Toby suddenly have a crush on Turpin? And how the frick is your dear author going to parody "Not While I'm Around"? These questions will probably not be answered in the next installment of Spoofy Todd, but just so you know, I want gummy worms right now. Thank you for your time, ladies and germs. And please click that little review button, because the more you review, the more I write, and the more I write, the more you smile! (Or grimace. Y'know, whatever works for you.)  
**


	11. In Which We Hear The Sweeney Sing

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd, the Jizz In My Pants song, MTV, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Les Miserables (although I wish I did, the possibilities would be endless and amusing), Squidward, Tic Tacs, or Furbies. Well, I do own one Furby. It's locked in a box in the basement because it would randomly turn on in the middle of the night and begin to scream.)**__

** SCENE ELEVEN: In Which We Hear The Sweeney Sing**

(Mrs. Lovett is throwing a grand opening party to celebrate how much better her pie-cooking skills have gotten. She hired the people who do My Super Sweet 16 on MTV to "pimp out" her party, which is why there are people dressed up as giant meat pies, among other things. However, their budget didn't include waiters, so Mrs. Lovett and Toby are scurrying around serving pies to people and giving everyone a sales pitch about how freakin' great their pies are.)

Crowd: (stuffs its collective face) Whee! Yay for pie!

Mrs. Lovett: I make pies, in a little room  
Down my drink while the rhythms boom  
It's going as planned and I'm overjoyed  
There's no need to be annoyed  
Lie back and let the planet dissolve -

Toby: (taps Mrs. Lovett on the shoulder) I think you're getting "Jizz in My Pants" confused with "So Long and Thanks For All The Fish". Which no one should ever do again.

Mrs. Lovett: Thank you for correcting me, dear.  
I baked a pie and I JIZZED IN MY PANTS.  
Or the female equivalent, you can count on me  
For inappropriate parodies, and sexy times with Mr. T...  
Um, perhaps I should stop rapping now?

Crowd: (sticks fingers in ears) Yes..._please..._Lord have mercy...

Mrs. Lovett: (ignores them) I saw a razor and I JIZZED IN MY PANTS.

Toby: I drank some gin and I JIZZED IN MY PANTS.

Mrs. Lovett: I saw Mr. T and he just killed a guy and I thought it was pretty spicy so I JIZZED IN MY PANTS.

Sweeney: (leans out of window) WILL YOU TWO STOP THAT INSUFFERABLE RACKET? I'M TRYING TO EMO HERE.

Mrs. Lovett: Geez, stop with the Caps Lock Of Rage already, will ya? _I'm _trying to sell some pies.

Sweeney: Oh really?

Toby: (pluckily) Yeah really!

Sweeney: ...No way. (closes the window, goes back to the murdering)

Crowd: (realizes Mrs. Lovett has stopped singing) God, that's good!

(Then Mrs. Lovett discovers something important.)

Mrs. Lovett: Oh crap, we're out of pie.

Random person: (walks upstairs) Yaaaaaay! I'm getting a shaaaave! Whee! (is about to become a pie)

Mrs. Lovett: ...Nevermind... (giggles)

(Because all of the crowd songs were cut from the movie, thanks to Tim Burton having a brilliant creative vision, I now present to you my version of Do You Hear The People Sing?, from Les Mis, because that's the musical my school is doing, and I'm in the chorus, and I hope that MAYBE if I share my version with the world, the song will stop getting stuck in my head. Wow, run-on sentence.)

Crowd: (is being redirected to a different musical, and are having a few problems along the way)  
Do you hear the chorus sing? Nasal and flat and out of tune.  
It is the music of a people who will not get screwed again!

Mrs. Lovett: Oooh snap...that sounds dirty. (winks)

Random crowd person: I didn't mean it like that. Biznatch, sit your ass down.

Mrs. Lovett: Nuh-uh! Bring it!

Random crowd person: Oh, it's already been brought-en!

Sweeney: (interrupts the girlfight) Brought-en isn't even a word! (points in dictionary)

Crowd: (is getting tired of this and begins to sing over them)  
These songs will stick in your head, and you will wish that you are dead,  
But the song will still be in your head when tomorrow comes!

Will you join us in our quest? Do you wish to be made free?  
Beyond this stupid play is there spare time you long to have?  
Then join in the fight that will not really take very long!  
_(Causeit'snotreallyafightatall...it'sactuallymoreofadanceoff...)_

(Mrs. Lovett and the random crowd person start ghetto booty dancing, or as close to booty dancing as one can get in 1800s London. The random person loses.)

Do you hear the Sweeney sing? Yes, of course, he's very loud.  
You can hear him in New England, you can hear him on a cloud.  
Mrs. Lovett chases him, because she's horny and she's dim,  
And Toby will still be drinking gin when tomorrow comes!

Toby: (raises his glass) HELL YEAH! (falls over)

(Suddenly, the shuffly, Squidwardish Beggar Woman reappears, demanding Tic Tacs.)

Beggar Woman: No one will give me my Tic Tacs? (begins to shriek and point at Mrs. Lovett) Bitch! Bitch! Biiiiiitch!

Toby: Everyone, this is my pet Furby. She has Tourettes because I dropped her on her head too many times.

Everyone: Hi, Furby... (waves awkwardly)

(Beggar Woman shuffles offstage, displaying her quirky facial tic.)

Mrs. Lovett: (is already wearing a neon-colored, stripey dress that resembles a tent) And on to the next scene we go, where I will have a dream sequence about sexytime and sing so high your eardrums implode!

Sweeney: (looks at Toby in desperation) Is there any way you can get me out of this?

Toby: Can't. I have auditions tomorrow. I could practice for my auditions on you, if you want. In front of lots of people. But I don't think your idea of getting out of this involves going back to Australia. They don't take too kindly to pedophilia here, unless Judge Turpin's doing it. But he can do anything. Because he's preeeettyyyy... (dances off, singing his version of "On My Own" and smiling like an idiot)

Sweeney: (shakes head) Not the place with the Hugh Jackman...scary, scary Hugh Jackman...he wouldn't stop _singing..._

**Oh dear...oh dear indeed. Why is this quickly turning into a Les Mis parody with Sweeney characters? (Because the musical has invaded my life and threatened everything that I hold dear, including what remained of the plot of this story.) Why is Sweeney afraid of Hugh Jackman? (Because he is insecure about his masculinity, especially when around People's Sexiest Man In The World.) And what the everloving frick on a stick is going to happen next? (It will involve an acid trip.) See ya in the next chapter of Spoofy Todd! (If you make it that far.)**


	12. In Which Bright Colors Ensue

**Author's Note: **Oh, jeezy. I am so sorry that this took so long. It's just that...what with being in the musical, and then not being in the musical because my grades were so bad, and then slogging through piles of AP European History coursework before the test which is in three weeks, and then being sick as a dog like I am right now...yeah, time was sort of limited to work on this thing. If I've caused anyone intense heartbreak and stress over this, I'm terribly sorry, and I'll make you some muffins.

Anyhoo, without further ado, I present Scene 12 of Spoofy Todd!  
**

* * *

  
SCENE TWELVE: In Which Bright Colors Ensue**

(Mrs. Lovett has dragged Sweeney and Toby on a picnic, in hopes that Toby will run off and fall in a hole so she and Sweeney can make sexytimes outdoors. However, Toby has become addicted to the pies for some inexplicable reason [perhaps he's a zombie?] and so, no matter how hard Mrs. Lovett tries, Toby will not leave. Deciding to ignore him for the time being, Mrs. Lovett goes off to annoy Sweeney instead and tell him about her detailed psychedelic fantasies involving water and cupcakes.)

Mrs. Lovett: (runs up to Sweeney and clings onto his arm for dear life) Sweeney! Sweeney! Sweeeeeeney! Sweeney! Sweeney! SWEENEY! Sweeney. Sweeney!

Sweeney: (disgruntled) What?

Mrs. Lovett: Hi.

Sweeney: If you're going to ask me about sexytimes, the answer is still the same.

Mrs. Lovett: No, I was just going to tell you about the sexytimes we're going to have someday.

Sweeney: And I was just going to tell you about the incredibly violent death you're going to have someday! Gee, what a coincidence.

Mrs. Lovett: (clings onto his arm even harder, probably cutting off the circulation) Awww, you're so sweet! So, like, anyways. Commence the trippy dream sequence!

(Lovett, Toby, and Sweeney fall into a world where everything is clean and brightly colored. Sweeney is not used to such things and stares around him in horror.)

Sweeney: It's...so..._cheerful..._ (begins twitching again)

Toby: Dude. Seriously. Chill.

Mrs. Lovett: (is wearing a ginormous poofy red dress that makes her look like a cupcake) Okay, so, like, this is where we're going to walk around, and be all sexy, and have people stare at us, and all those bitches over there (points randomly), are going to be sooooo jealous because, like, I totally have the hottest boyfriend ever, and they don't, so there!

Sweeney: (looks down) Sweet fricking Jesus on a stick riding a llama! I'm wearing COLOR!

(The scenery abruptly changes to a beach house.)

Mrs. Lovett: And this is where, like, we're going to totally hang out, and chill, and all those bitches walking around (points to a group of people in Teletubby costumes), are going to be soooo jealous, because, like, I totally have the hottest boyfriend ever, and he gives me back massages, and they don't because they're Teletubbies. So there.

Sweeney: Yeah, sure I'll massage your back. With a cheese grater.

Mrs. Lovett: (doesn't hear the last part, or the sarcasm) Awww! Like, thank you!

Sweeney: Why are you talking like that?

Mrs. Lovett: (flips her hair) Because I talk like a Valley Girl when I tell stories or when we go into a dream sequence, remember?

Sweeney: ...I didn't want to remember. But now I have. Oh well. Where's the brain bleach?

Mrs. Lovett: Um...right along in here. (drags him into the kitchen, where a party is in progress) Oh, like, this is where we're going to have sexy parties, and I made you this cake. It has fire on it.

(She shoves a pink monstrosity at him. The pink monstrosity is topped with fifty trillion candles and says "Sexy Times NOW?" on it.)

Sweeney: (drops the cake) WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT ASKING ME THAT QUESTION?

Mrs. Lovett: ...And, like, I think this would be, you know, a great time to switch to the wedding sequence!

(They are suddenly in a church. Mrs. Lovett's big poofy red dress is now a big poofy white dress. Sweeney's hair has magically been combed and he is wearing a clean white suit, which is making him nervous. And also itchy. Toby has run out of the dream sequence, as he needs to continue practicing for his auditions, and by using the word practicing, your dear author means that Toby is doing something else which is most definitely illegal. He'll definitely fit right in with the Work House Musical 2 kids.)

Priest: Blah blah blah, you guys are married now, blah blah blah.

Mrs. Lovett: (nudges Sweeney) Hey look. It's a priest. Hur hur hur.

Sweeney: (in a monotone) Oh. How exciting.

Priest: You may now, as they say, "hit that".

(Mrs. Lovett takes this as an excuse to jump on Sweeney and tackle him to the floor.)

Sweeney: NO!

Mrs. Lovett: YES!

Sweeney: WHY ME?!

Mrs. Lovett: BECAUSE...uh...BECAUSE YOU'RE SEXY!

Sweeney: POR QUE?!

(The Beadle pops out from behind a corner.)

Beadle: Ah, Senor Sweeney! ¿Por qué, usted pide? Porque su nueva esposa tiene gusto de violar. (Why, you ask? Because when I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, what will I be. Will I be pretty, will I be rich, here's what she said to me. Que sera, sera. Well, actually she said something more along the lines of "You're adopted and I hate you", but...yeah...)

Mrs. Lovett: (annoyed) Stop being such a cock blocker! Trippy dream sequence...uh...un-commence!

(They fall back through the magical rainbow swirly thing into the picnic field, where everything is now more monochrome and Tim Burton-ish. Sweeney still has his hand on Mrs. Lovett's thigh, then quickly withdraws it after remembering she has permanent skin herpes.)

Sweeney: (through gritted teeth) I...am going to...take you...

Mrs. Lovett: (interrupting) And what are you going to do after you take me?

Sweeney: Put you...in a...

Mrs. Lovett: HOT TUB?!

Sweeney: ...wood chipper...

**Oh jeezy. So, to recap: Mrs. Lovett loves Sweeney, who hates everyone, who have no idea they're eating pies made out of human flesh, which didn't really want to be a pie, which is currently being eaten by Toby, whose auditions for the Disney Channel are tomorrow. Whew. *wipes beads of sweat off forehead* Stick around for more melodrama, dream sequences, and unwanted sexy times on Spoofy Todd!  
**


	13. In Which There Are Things And Stuff

**SCENE THIRTEEN: In Which There Are Things And Stuff**

(After Sweeney's horrifying experience inside Mrs. Lovett's personal Precious Moments acid trip, he resorts to hiding in his room with the door locked, being broody and moody and pace-y and Pacey from Dawson's Creek. Sweeney's pacing is getting increasingly louder as time goes on, and this is disturbing Mrs. Lovett, who has returned to doing Pilates in the kitchen again.)

Mrs. Lovett: (from downstairs) OH SWEENEY, DARLING?

Sweeney: **WHAT.**

Mrs. Lovett: (yelling) _Please_ stop pacing, sweetheart, I'm trying to do leg lifts and you're not helping. Unless you'd like to, of course. (winks, before realizing he can't see her)

Sweeney: **I CAN'T HEAR YOU. STOP BENDING YOURSELF INTO PRETZEL-LIKE SHAPES AND GET UP HERE SO WE CAN CONVERSATE PROPERLY.**

Mrs. Lovett: (appears inside his room) Are you going to talk in **BOLD CAPS **for the rest of this fic, love?

(The fourth wall of Sweeney's room shatters into a thousand pieces.)

Sweeney: ...

Mrs. Lovett: Also, yoga is when you become a pretzel. Pilates is when you become very stiff and sore. Heh. Stiff. I know some other things that -

Sweeney: Why did I think it was a good idea for you to come up here?

Mrs. Lovett: Heh. Come. Can I ask you a question, Sweeners?

Sweeney: If you ever call me that again I will put you in a compromising position with a meat grinder. A fatal compromising position. Sure, I guess.

Mrs. Lovett: What did your Lucy look like?

Sweeney: She had yellow hair.

Mrs. Lovett: I'd like to introduce a new word to your vocabulary, Mr. T. Blonde. B-l-o-n-d-e. Blonde, James Blonde. You get the idea. It's a better word for yellow.

Sweeney: She had BLONDE hair. Happy?

Mrs. Lovett: Insanely! (grabs Sweeney and begins to squeeze him very tightly)

Sweeney: I'd like to introduce a new word to your - OW OW OW GODDAMNIT THAT WAS MY _PANCREAS._

Mrs. Lovett: Is there anything else about Lucy that you can remember?

Sweeney: (is not being squeezed anymore) Um...she had kaleidoscope eyes. That also had the sun in them. And stuff like that.

Mrs. Lovett: Now you're just quoting the Beatles! You can't remember her at all, can you?

Sweeney: Um. No. I kinda had to throw the pictures away because they got too bloodstained.

Mrs. Lovett: (gleeful) So...now that you can't remember anything about her...you're going to fall in love with me and have sexy times forever and go live by the sea so then I can be all I'M ON A BOAT, I'M ON A BOAT, TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT ME CAUSE I'M STANDIN' ON A -

(Suddenly, Anthony bursts in, still in his jogging shorts.)

Mrs. Lovett: - LADY BOY!

Sweeney: You're standing on a lady-boy? Ouch. My deepest sympathies, Anthony.

Anthony: (is overdramatic) OH. MY. GOD. YOU GUYS. The _worst thing ever _just happened. I am distraught. And at a loss for words. But yet I'm still speaking. Funny how that happens.

Mrs. Lovett: (attempts to be supportive) What's wrong, dearie?

Anthony: THE. HANNAH. MONTANA. TICKETS. JUST SOLD OUT. And I didn't get one! (bursts into tears) Oh, and Johanna's in the insane asylum. Well, I knew that at least a day before you guys did, but I was too busy sitting on Ticketmaster waiting for the tickets to go on sale. I didn't eat. I didn't move. I peed into a water bottle. And all for NOTHING.

Sweeney: Wait. Back up. Johanna's in the nuthouse?

Anthony: Oh, she's in a _nuthouse, _not an insane asylum?

Mrs. Lovett: Sweetie, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but they're the same thing. Also, a funny farm is not where people go to practice stand up comedy amongst the chickens.

Anthony: (the tears continue) So _that's _where my mom went! And every Saturday night, I've been watching NBC in hopes that she'll be the newest SNL cast member, and I'll be related to her, like how Your Dear Author wishes she was related to Seth Meyers because they have the same last name.

Sweeney: (sighs) Okay, you're going to be a wigmaker's apprentice.

Anthony: Can't I be a sorcerer's apprentice instead?

Sweeney: Oh, I can see _that _going well. (imitates Anthony) Hi, I'm Anthony Hope and I'm gonna be a magician, sparkles and butterflies and _unicorns._ We're trying to get Johanna out of the madhouse, not put you in there with her. Although...on second thought...no. You guys will be useful later for when we get into the porn business.

Anthony: What?

Sweeney: Nothing. Now go look up wigmaking on Wikipedia and make yourself useful.

Anthony: How do you spell wigmaking? The last time I went to Wikipedia I was trying to research a bunch of weird kinky fetishes, and ended up reading about six-foot-long millipedes that live in the Black Forest. I think I might have typo'd.

Mrs. Lovett: Tai Bo, did you say? Which reminds me, I need to go back and keep working out, cause I'm getting married soon and my body needs to be so hot it's ON FIRE.

Sweeney: (smirks) I can help you with the fire bit. (plays with a lighter)

Mrs. Lovett: (blissfully unaware of foreshadowing) Okay. We'll do that later. Bye!

(Anthony also leaves, to go misspell wigmaking as "eight-foot-long millipedes from New Zealand with big, sharp teeth". Toby comes in, looking for his spare sequined panties and an extra bottle of gin.)

Toby: (is drunk) Hiiii, Mishter T. I talk like Shean Connery when I'sh drunk.

Sweeney: (is writing a letter) I don't have time for your shenanigans, pipsqueak. Okay, I finished my letter. Wanna hear it?

Toby: Shure. (sways from side to side)

Sweeney: "Most Honorable Judge Turpentine, I hope this finds you well, so later, I can help other people find you dead. Speaking of other people, remember the lady-boy with the running shorts and the penchant for Miley Cyrus? Yep, it's just as you suspected. He's off ravishing your wart - I mean ward - and if you want to see her alive and unblemished and not brainwashed into singing "Fly On The Wall", come to my shop tonight so I can come in my...nevermind. Anyhoo, Johanna has realized that Anthony's not nearly as sexy as you are, and is probably gay, and wants someone less gay, so yeah. However, I want someone more gay, so this will probably turn into a creepy incestuous triangle of some sort, until I stab you with a thousand razors and then make love to your decomposing corpse. I should probably take my Prozac now.  
Love, Sweeners Sexypants McTodderson." Well, what do you think? (flourishes dramatically)

Toby: I...that wash exchellent. Yaaaay. (falls over)

Sweeney: ...Right. (props Toby back up) Now go deliver this letter to Judge Turpin, and be quick about it. Mrs. Lovett wants you back here to practice some more before your Disney Channel auditions.

Toby: Mr. T? What happens if I don't get a callback?

Sweeney: Then we'll lock you in the basement and attempt to kill - er, I mean, we'll still love you. Of course. Yep.

Toby: Whee! (grabs the letter and runs off)

(Sweeney begins to pace again, annoying Mrs. Lovett, who is currently on phase 2 of the Flirty Girl Fitness strip pole workout.)

Mrs. Lovett: (from downstairs) **BE QUIET, I'M PRACTICING MY STRIPPING FOR WHEN WE GET INTO THE PORN BUSINESS**!

Sweeney: Who's talking in bold caps now, bitch?

**Oh snap. I think Mrs. Lovett just got treated. In the next chapter of Spoofy Todd, Toby will finally have his audition, Anthony may or may not visit the House of Nuts, and there will most definitely be Shenanigans™. Everyone who reviews is guaranteed the chance of having Anthony sing about stalking them and/or the millipedes from Germany/New Zealand that he is so afraid of.**


	14. In Which Your Author Makes An Excuse

**[A/N: I know, I know, it's been a while. And that's an understatement. But I am back now, from my ill-fated romantic adventures and subsequent bereavement. This is my excuse, poorly disgused as an update. Enjoy. Or don't.]**

**Disclaimer: Don't know (wish I did), don't own (really wish I did), and please, for the love of all you think is holy, don't sue. I especially do not own the phrase "roaring rampage of revenge" which belongs to the magnificent Quentin Tarantino. My friend's cousin works at a bar, and once met Quentin Tarantino. In fact, she got drunk with him. If only I were so lucky.**

**

* * *

**

**In Which Your Dear Author Makes An Excuse**

(Meanwhile, back in the pie shop/murdering emporium, Your Dear Author is sitting in the kitchen, being interrogated by Mrs. Lovett about the nature of her sudden and lengthy absence.)

Mrs. Lovett: (angrily) Where the frick have you _been, _lady? It's been almost two months, and we've just been sitting here waiting for you to decide in what strange direction our lives will go next! Toby's been driving me nuts about the auditions, Sweeney still is disinclined to acquiesce my requests for sexy times, and no one has taught the Beadle English yet…you better have a really good explanation for all this.

(She takes a swig out of a nearby bottle of gin. Your Dear Author looks heavenward in secondhand embarrassment.)

Your Dear Author: (somewhat sheepishly) Yeah. I know. Um…well…I'm _really_ sorry about that.

Mrs. Lovett: Yeah…you better be.

Your Dear Author: Wanna hear the story?

Mrs. Lovett: Did you get some sexy times for yourself?

Your Dear Author: Er. Well. Sorta? Anyway. I met this guy. And he was really cute, and nice, and super nerdy so he understood 90 percent of what I was talking about, which is really rare. So we were talking, and texting, and everything was all great and whatever. But what I didn't know was –

Mrs. Lovett: (interrupting) HE WAS GAY?!

Your Dear Author: Nope. That happened last year. I didn't know that he had severe mental problems.

Mrs. Lovett: HE WAS A SERIAL KILLER?!

Your Dear Author: Nope. That's your life.

Mrs. Lovett: Oh, come on. He totally was a serial killer. I know your type. And you assisted him in having a roaring rampage of revenge, and then you danced around near the bodies, and he pushed you into the fire...I mean, asked you to marry him...

Your Dear Author: No. I assisted him in making him somewhat happy. For like three days. But then his ex-girlfriend started saying a bunch of dumb shit, and he kind of went crazy. Like a big crazy thing that's all…crazy. But before that we made out for three hours and I was all "Whee! Perhaps at last I will not die a virgin!" But that's too much information. Anyway, after he went crazy, he decided that the best thing to do would be to shuffle off this mortal coil, and so instead of going to his graduation party I ended up going to his funeral.

Mrs. Lovett: Oh. My. God. You need like, tea, and gin, and food not made from human flesh, and maybe also some opium…

Your Dear Author: No. Wait. It gets worse. Three days later, guess what my computer does? It crashes. Guess who has two thumbs and didn't back up any of her files? This bitch. Guess who lost everything? Yep. I did. And now I have to put 3000 songs back on my computer. Not to mention all the other stuff.

Mrs. Lovett: (gives Your Dear Author a very uncharacteristic hug) Please tell me it doesn't get worse.

Your Dear Author: Oh, yeah. Then my friend's dad and my other friend's older brother died in the space of a week…

(Mrs. Lovett has no words by this point, and merely shoves the bottle of gin and a tray of cupcakes in Your Dear Author's direction.)

Your Dear Author: So, to summarize: shit's been crazy.

(Just then, Toby comes in dressed in a full-on mermaid costume, complete with drag queen makeup.)

Toby: Yay, author lady! I can finally go to my auditions now. (glances at the bottle in Your Dear Author's hand) Not-yay, author lady! You're stealing all my gin!

Your Dear Author: (somewhat snarkily) Good to see nothing's changed.

* * *

**So, in two months, I lost my boyfriend, my friends lost family members, and I didn't watch Lost. Good news is, with great sadness also comes great comedy, or something like that, so expect your usual Spoofy Todd programming to return soon, but better, and maybe even with banana flavoring. But I'm not promising anything...**


	15. In Which The Story Resumes

**Disclaimer: Don't own Sweeney Todd, Hannah Montana, American Idol, Kool-Aid, the Spanish language, _Les Miserables, Titanic, Chicago, _various reality stars, Jamba Juice, the song "Whatever You Like", or any Mary Sues.  
The above sentence will hopefully illustrate for you the randomness and/or inanity of this chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

SCENE FIFTEEN: In Which The Story Resumes

(Toby and Mrs. Lovett are at the Work House Musical auditions. For once, Toby is not visibly drunk, and he has thankfully taken off the mermaid costume. However, Mrs. Lovett is not too confident in her surrogate son's abilities, and is giving him some last-minute coaching.)

Mrs. Lovett: Now if the nice man tells you that you suck and you should go home, what do you say?

Toby: (immediately launches into Diva Mode) YOU JUST DON'T APPRECIATE MY GENIUS! (flounces)

Mrs. Lovett: Try again...

Toby: (switches to Horny Mode) I'd like to take _you _home and suck you. (bats eyelashes)

Mrs. Lovett: Oh God. We're doomed. (rummages around in her purse for the tiny bottles of alcohol that she keeps for emergencies)

(A very bitchy-looking assistant enters the waiting room, clipboard in hand.)

Bitchy Assistant: Toby?

Toby: Si, senor?

Bitchy Assistant: Right this way, please.

Mrs. Lovett: Hey, I thought there was only one person in this story speaking gratuitous Spanish!

(The fourth wall of the waiting room is promptly broken by the Kool-Aid man.)

Kool-Aid man: OH YEEEEAAAAAA -

Mrs. Lovett: Don't. Just...don't.

(Toby and Mrs. Lovett follow the bitchy-looking assistant into a room with four people in it - Simon Cowell, Paula Abdul, Randy Jackson, and for some reason, Hannah Montana herself.)

Paula: (woozily) Hey, honey. What's your name?

Toby: I'm Toby, I'm nine, and I'm _fabulous._

Simon: Oh god, just get on with it already.

(Toby begins to sing. As usual when this happens, he gets a lot cuter and much less dirty.)

Toby: Everything will harm you,  
while I am around.  
Cause I'm unobservant, oh look,  
a nickel on the ground!  
Stage moms are prowling everywhere nowadays,  
they look so tacky, poofy hair, it's insane!

(Toby runs to Mrs. Lovett, who is sitting on a nearby chair, and buries his head in her boobs.)

Toby: Sweeney's gonna harm you,  
in chapter eighteen!  
Throw you in the fire, yes ma'am,  
Cause he's just that mean!  
Try as you might you'll never get sexytime,  
So please heed my advice or you'll die!

(The judges look alarmed, except for Hannah Montana, who's too busy updating her Twitter with cryptic references to Nick Jonas and trying to block someone named "StalkerAnthony17" from her buddy list.)

Mrs. Lovett: (embarrassed) The poor idiot child doesn't know what he's saying.

(Toby now turns to Paula and gets down on his knees. The cuteness is too much for them to handle.)

Toby: They're all gonna harm me,  
if I don't get called back.  
Sweeney's gonna stab me, yes ma'am,  
with a sharp thumbtack!  
Please let me get this part, it would make my life,  
cause if I don't I might end up in a pie!

Randy Jackson: Dawg, are you trying to tell me, dawg, that your family is abusing you? Dawg.

Toby: (really belts it out, complete with jazz hands) Everyone will harm me, yes sir, until I'm not around!

(The judges deliberate, which takes about 5 seconds.)

Simon Cowell: That was absolutely wretched. (points to the door) Go.

Paula: (claps with her arms straight out in front of her, like a seal) OH MY GOD! You were amaaaaazing! You are like, the next...the next...uh...Mariah Carey! Everything is...going all...fuzzy and bright colors...

(Paula topples from her chair onto the floor.)

Randy: Dawg. That was...that was intense, dawg.

Hannah Montana: Nobody's perfect! You live and you learn it! Everybody makes mistakes! Everybody does cocaine! I mean...uh...  
(She looks around wildly and then flees the room.)

Toby: So...am I going to Hollywood?

Simon: (snarkily) We'll call you.

(Toby bursts into tears, and then bursts into a fit of insanity. Cheesy violin music begins to play in the background, the standard soundtrack when one has been severely disappointed on television.)

Toby: (overdramatically) I _hate _you people! I used to work as a street performer, hawking bottles of cough syrup. I have pulled myself up from NOTHING, and this is all I get?! I have come so far to achieve my dream, and all I'm left with is...broken promises...and gin...and a messy death in the near future... (breaks down completely)

Mrs. Lovett: He's...a mite upset. I think he needs his Prozac.

(She drags Toby out by the ear to the parking lot, where he is about to receive the worst verbal beatdown of his young life.)

**Meanwhile, over at the nuthouse...**

(Meanwhile, over at the nuthouse, Anthony has successfully disguised himself as a wigmaker's apprentice, and come up with an appropriate lie to tell Mr. Fogg.)

Anthony: (nervously, which is why everything is phrased as a question) Um. Hi? I'm Tony? From Locks of Love?

Mr. Fogg: (creepily, which is how he says everything) Oh. Oh yes. Hel-_lo._ Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look in the dark?

Anthony: ...Once or twice? Um. Can I see the blondes? It's for this, like, little cancer girl, or something like that.

(Mr. Fogg leads "Tony from Locks of Love" down the long, dark, damp, squicky corridor.)

Mr. Fogg: (points) The brunettes...

(The brunette cell contains a skinny, dirty French girl who likes to sing moody ballads at the top of her lungs, a skinny, less dirty, flapper who likes to kill people and sing about it, and a less skinny, very clean, half-drowned girl who starts screaming as Anthony passes by.)

Girl: Jack? Jack! I'M ON A BOAT, JACK! I GOT MY SWIM TRUNKS, AND MY FLIPPY-FLOPPIES! _I'LL NEVER LET GO, JACK!_

Anthony: Oh...crap. (flees)

(At last, Mr. Fogg and Anthony arrive at the blonde section. Inside the cell, Johanna is being attacked by Paris Hilton, Heidi Montag, and Hannah Montana, who was recently incarcerated after being caught with illegal substances.)

Anthony: Stop! What are you doing?

Paris Hilton: Being hot.

Heidi Montag: Being inane.

Hannah Montana: Making her my prison bitch.

(Anthony takes out his handy-dandy mini gun and attempts to shoot Mr. Fogg. He fails, because the handy-dandy mini gun is actually a squirt gun, and it's not even loaded.)

Anthony: Johanna...

Johanna: (scared shitless) Yes?

Anthony: Do you still have your pepper spray?

(As a way of answering this question, Johanna sprays him with it.)

Anthony: (screaming in pain) BLIND NOW, THANK YOU.

Johanna: _Ohhhh_, you meant spray the crazy guy! (sprays Mr. Fogg)

Anthony: Yes...urk...ow. Oh god.

(In a display of immense and heretofore unknown strength, Johanna drags the blinded Anthony out of the asylum, heading in the vague direction of a Ye Olde Jamba Juice.)

**Meanwhile, over at The Other Nuthouse...**

(Meanwhile, over at Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie and Murdering Emporium of Magical Wonder, Toby and his berserk stage mother have returned from their unsuccessful moneymaking excursion. Toby has several bruises on his face, his mascara is running, and there are Twizzlers in his hair. Suddenly, Mrs. Lovett has another one of her very dangerous ideas.)

Mrs. Lovett: Toby?

Toby: (still firmly entrenched in Diva Mode) How _dare _you talk to me while I'm weeping in the abyss? Can't you see I'm BUSY?

Mrs. Lovett: (sighs) It's always the weeping with you. I know what would cheer you up, though.

Toby: Do I get to practice on your stripper pole?

Mrs. Lovett: No. You get to go play in the basement. It's filled with sharp things and pie.

Toby: (brightens up immediately) YIPPEE!

(Toby dashes down the basement stairs, excited at the prospect of stuffing rats into the Easy-Bake Oven. Mrs. Lovett locks the door behind him, and decides to squish the rising feelings of guilt with some more liquor. However, she will have to wait a while to squish those feelings, since El Beadle Bamfordo has just arrived, and he might have brought Chex Mix.)

Beadle: Hola, Senor Sweeney y...Senora Puta. Divirtámosnos cierto, este golpe es enfermo, yo quieren tomar un paseo en su palillo del disco. (Hey, guys. We got a complaint that the area around your house smells like ass. Burning ass, to be precise.)

Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney: (in unison) EN INGLES, POR FAVOR.

Beadle: Hello. We obtain a complains that the sector around it...how you say...perfumes about the house like ass. Burning ass, being precise. Why must you make with the burning? Eh...and why must there be an arm of the lady on the floor tile?

Mrs. Lovett: (thinking quickly) We inherited these...mannequins. From my Great-Aunt Maude. And we don't want them, so we're burning them. That's why that random arm is there. It fell off.

Beadle: (leers) Anatomically corrected mannequins, for probability?

Sweeney: (catching on) Oh, definitely. See, Great-Aunt Maude used to run a sex shop...

(Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett proceed to distract the Beadle with a highly entertaining, mostly fictitious story about the exploits of Great-Aunt Maude and her Kinky Hardware Store.)

Beadle: Those was a good history. I believe now homoerotic tendency me to concern. Pamper me, Mr. Todd. Pamper me with hardness.

(Sweeney leads the Beadle up to the barbering/stabbing area.)

Sweeney: (starts to sing/rap)  
Yeah I want your body, need your body,  
Soon as we got that we'll be making more money,  
Yo mama's so fat, think you just got treated,  
Gonna put you in a pie and heat it

Razors in hand, gin on ice  
And killing you will feel so right  
I said you can have whatever you like  
Yeah you can have whatever you like  
Yeah, all this blood, so messy and bright  
Unusual death for you tonight  
Baby you can go wherever you like  
I said you can go wherever you like (as long as it's the basement)!

Beadle: ¡Tómeme de detrás! (That was such a lovely song, Mr. Todd!)

Sweeney: RAAAAAAAAAAAAGEEEEEEE! (slits the Beadle's throat)

Beadle: _POR QUE?_ (falls through the chute thing and dies)

Sweeney: (pumps fist) Yessssss. One down, millions more to go.

(Suddenly, a girl walks in. A girl with sparkling topaz eyes, shimmering raven hair, alabaster skin, and curves in all the right places [and some physically impossible ones, as well]. A girl who has a voice like chiming bells, and says her name is - )

Random Girl: Oh thank God, at last I've found you! My name is Mary Susanna Skankabelle Chastity McHerpes, and I have amnesia, but all I can remember is that I'm supposed to assist you with the pies and the murdering and fall madly in love with you at some -

(Thankfully, Sweeney slays the abomination before things get too out of hand.)  


* * *

**In the next installment of Spoofy Todd...blood! Revenge! More blood! More revenge! Forbidden love! Exclamation points! Stuff like that!  
**


	16. In Which It Looks Like Strawberry Jelly

**Disclaimer: Don't own Sweeney Todd. Wish I did. Also don't own Taco Bell, _Les Miserables, _The Lonely Island, Julia Roberts, Sailor Moon, the Kool-Aid man, _The Princess Bride, _Pokemon, Grand Theft Auto, Say Anything, _Annie, Gigi, _Oingo Boingo, or _Step Brothers. _But I do own a PB&J sandwich, and it's delicious. **

* * *

**SCENE SIXTEEN: In Which It Looks Like Strawberry Jelly**

(Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett are running around the sewers, searching for Toby.)

Sweeney: Can we stop? My feet hurt and I'm hungry and I'm _tiiiiired._

Mrs. Lovett: (under her breath) God, what is it with men and whining? Must be something in the water.

Sweeney: What did you say?

Mrs. Lovett: After we find Toby, I'll take you to Taco Bell and give you a foot massage. Now zip it, we have an urchin to catch.

Sweeney: (goes from depressed to irate in five seconds) Since when did you start ordering me about, woman?

Mrs. Lovett: Since you started being all broody and sulky and pace-y and lacking direction in your life.

Sweeney: I do not _sulk._

Mrs. Lovett: No, you're right. You emo. And yes, as of now, emo can be a verb.

Sweeney: Your mom can be a verb.

Mrs. Lovett: She actually was. Her name was Stabbing.

Sweeney: (has really no idea what to say to this) Oh.

(They continue searching the sewer. While doing so, they find the decomposing remains of several Mary Sues, an old guy carrying someone, a pirate hat, and a fifth of vodka.)

Mrs. Lovett: Toby! Toby! Come out, come out, wherever you are!

Sweeney: I thought he already came out two weeks ago.

Mrs. Lovett: Wow, you really are a literalist.

**Meanwhile, back at the other nuthouse...**

(Meanwhile, back at the barbershop, Anthony does his usual dramatic burst through the door, but this time he's actually wearing normal clothes as opposed to his Julia Roberts, Sailor Moon, or naughty schoolgirl outfits.)

Anthony: Mr. Todd, we brought you back a smoothie! It's pineapple flavored!

(Johanna enters, holding the smoothie and also wearing normal clothes instead of one of her super pimped out frilly dresses.)

Johanna: Guess what?

Anthony: I can't.

Johanna: I love wearing pants!

Anthony: You appear to be the only one who does. The crazy baking lady undresses at every single opportunity, Mr. Todd has been known to strip on occasion to bring a little extra money into the house, and your creepy dad and his rodentlike assistant, well...they just...you know what they do.

Johanna: Unfortunately. Hey, I gotta tell you something.

Anthony: Fire away. But not literally cause I kinda want to get married to you and have babies and stuff, not end up dead like everyone else in this stupid story.

(The fourth wall of the barbershop is once again shattered by the Kool-Aid Man.)

Anthony: BEGONE, YOU IDIOT! WE'RE HAVING A TENDER MOMENT!

Johanna: (continues on) ...so I thought this would be a great time to tell you that, well, I'm not a virgin.

Anthony: You _what _now?

Johanna: I lived in a house with two creepy, perverted men who liked to watch me sleep at night and give me nice things when I did stuff for them. You gotta do what you gotta do sometimes, ya know? But now I don't have dreams, only nightmares.

Anthony: That's did it with the human, Spanish version of a Rodent of Unusual Size. I'd never sleep again.

Johanna: You don't sleep. You toss and you turn and you get up and you come over here and you have wild, wild orgies that I, being a sheltered child, know nothing of...

Anthony: Oh stop. You totally snuck into Turpin's parties and got it on with half the guys there. I know you, you're a sex kitten.

Johanna: (bats eyelashes) Really, Anthony? Do you really think so?

Anthony: (in a monotone) You're the love of my life, Johanna. Now just wait here, in the big trunk they keep the bodies in, and I'll be back with a Ferrari, a bottle of Grey Goose, and about five hookers.

Johanna: How do you plan to get all that?

Anthony: Oh, so you mean you can't do the stuff from Grand Theft Auto in real life?

Johanna: Sweet jeezy, just _go._

(Anthony skips out, armed to the teeth and ready to cut a bitch. Johanna approaches Sweeney's barbering table thing, picks up his razor, and checks her makeup in the reflection.)

Johanna: Note to self – borrow Anthony's eyeliner more.

(Suddenly, a Wild Beggar Woman appears. She uses INSANITY! It's super effective!)

(Also, Johanna freaks out and hides in the trunk they keep the bodies in.)

Beggar Woman: Mumble mumble shuffle grumble mumble. Oooh, a shiny. Ow, the shiny hurts. Ooh, a chair. Mumble mumble is this a place where you go to get your nails done? Yes, I think it is.

(A Wild Sweeney appears! He uses RAZOR! It's super effective!)

Beggar Woman: Hey! I know you! You were the pizza delivery guy I had sex with one time while my husband was away! And whoa, my blood's all squirty like a fondue fountain thinger!

(The Beggar Woman dies and goes through the trapdoor to the basement, where she will be instrumental in a later discovery that ends in disaster, not to foreshadow or anything.)

Sweeney: Mmm. Fondue.

(Judge Turnip enters, glancing round the room in hopes of finding either small children or his ersatz ward.)

Turpin: Hello, good sir. Where is Johanna?

Sweeney: She's downstairs with Mrs. Lovett doing a strip pole workout. Don't worry, she's quite safe.

Turpin: Meh, safety, whatever. Has she repented and does she want to repent in her pants, is the question.

Sweeney: (nervously) Uh, you betcha. Now just sit down in this nice, comfortable chair, so I can commence the murdering.

Turpin: Excuse me?

Sweeney: I mean the pampering. Yes. The pampering.

(Turpin sits down in the chair, and the singing begins again.)

Turpin: I love little girls, they make me feel so good! I love little girls, they make me feel so bad!

Sweeney: I kill, kill, kill little girls. I kill, kill, kill little girls. It's such a thrill, thrill, thrill to the world when I kill, kill, kill little girls.

Turpin: Little girls, little girls, everywhere I turn I can see 'em...

Sweeney: Thank heaven for little girls, they grow up in the most delightful way...

Turpin: (sighing) Ah, Mr. Todd. A man after my own heart. If you were a dinosaur, which one would you be?

Sweeney (in unison with Turpin): Velociraptor.

Turpin: Okay, okay. Next one. If you were a girl, who's the first guy you'd sleep with?

Sweeney: (in unison with Turpin) John Stamos.

Turpin: This. Is. So. Weird. Okay, last question. If you could rape someone, who would it be?

Sweeney: (in unison with Turpin) Lucy Barker...okay, that's just _weird._

Turpin: I know right? I wonder what happened to her husband. He was so foxy, but I had to send him to Australia because he was interrupting my plans for stuff.

Sweeney: ...I'm her husband.

Turpin: Uh-oh Spaghetti-O's. Benjamin Barker?

Sweeney: _BENJAMIN BARKER! _(stabs Turpin in myriad places) Heh, the crazy lady was right. It does look like a fondue fountain, but with, like, strawberry jelly. I think I'm gonna go make a sandwich after this.

(The Magical Chair of Death goes all slide-y and sends Turpin crashing down to the bakehouse to join El Burrito Bamfordo. Sweeney, finally done with his roaring rampage of revenge, does a manic jig around the barbershop for several minutes...until he hears giggling coming from the trunk they keep the bodies in...)

* * *

**A/N: ...aaaaaaaaaaaaaand we cut to commercial. On an unspecified date, probably about three days from now, the finale of Spoofy Todd has arrived at long last. There will be super-predictable plot twists, oodles of disappointment, slick pop culture references, and about eighty gallons of fake blood! Tune into the last episode of Spoofy Todd sometime in the near future on FFN (and don't forget the cheese popcorn)!**


	17. In Which All Bad Things Must End

**[A/N: Well, it's come at last...the end is here! Thank you to all my amazing readers and reviewers, I love you all dearly. And that sounded creepy. Now, without further ado, I present to you the finale.]**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd, Harry Potter, Jiffy Lube, Zoolander, Yahtzee, RENT, the Hulk, OxyClean, Slap Chop, The House Bunny, Heathers, Tic Tacs, "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire", Pokemon, Zac Efron, or anything Disney. I do own a ShamWow, though. **

**NOW ON WITH THE SHOW!**

**

* * *

**

**SCENE SEVENTEEN: In Which All Bad Things Must End**

(Now that Severus Snape – er, I mean Judge Turpentine – has met a sticky not-quite-end, Sweeney is about to go make a sandwich, celebrate with Mrs. Lovett, and fend off her advances some more, but he hears a strange giggling coming from the Trunk of Dead Body Holding. It sounds like a Teletubby on laughing gas. His natural instinct is to kill it.)

Sweeney: (flinging open the trunk) SHOW YOURSELF!

Johanna: (recoils in fear) Oh, crap. (remembers she's supposed to be a guy) Hi, my name is Joe Billy Bob...

Sweeney: Come for a shave, have you, lad?

Johanna: (clambers out of the trunk) Yes, and an eyebrow waxing as well. It's so hard being a metrosexual sailor!

Sweeney: I knew one of them once. Andrew, I think his name was...anyway, that's not important. Right, shaving and eyebrow waxing. Well, just sit down in my chair of murdering – er, I mean, barbering – and I'll be with you faster than you can say "Jiffy Lube".

(Johanna sits down in the chair apprehensively.)

Johanna: Jiffy Lube.

(Sweeney decides to hold a razor to her throat and do a series of striking poses. Once again, the fourth wall breaks apart to reveal a crew of photographers.)

Photographer: Now give us "Blue Steel"!

(Sweeney does a few menacing glares. The photographers, perhaps deciding that now is not a good time, quickly rebuild the fourth wall and go off to another, better parody.)

Sweeney: And now...I KEEL JOO!

Johanna: Urk...but...I'm your...

(Before things can be revealed and appearances on Maury can be scheduled, there is a bloodcurdling scream from downstairs that suggests that Mrs. Lovett has fatally injured herself whilst doing the Flirty Girl Fitness Strip Pole Workout. Your Dear Author, despite being American, enjoys the word 'whilst', because 'while' sounds less classy. But anyhoo, Sweeney runs out of the barbering chamber, leaving a frightened Johanna Billy Bob behind him.)

Sweeney: I'M COMING, MRS. LOVETT!

(Meanwhile, down in the basement of death, Mrs. Lovett can't hear Sweeney say those four sexually charged words, and thus misses out on another one of her horrifically obvious puns. Instead, she's too busy stomping on Judge Turnip's face and trying to get him to stop looking at her hoo-ha.)

Turpin: C'mon, baby. A little bit of almost necrophila, whaddaya say?

Mrs. Lovett: DIE! GOD IN HEAVEN, DIE! (stomps)

(Meanwhile, up in Heaven, God is far too busy playing Yahtzee to pay the slightest bit of attention.)

Sweeney: (bursts through the door) Are you okay? Did you fracture something?

Mrs. Lovett: Yeah. Turpin's face.

Sweeney: You mean he _survived _that?

Mrs. Lovett: Sex addicts are surprisingly resilient. Take it from me.

Sweeney: So, uh...what're we going to do with all the bodies?

Mrs. Lovett: Well, we already have enough of these pies to feed a freakin' army, so I decided we'll just burninate them in the large, scary oven.

Sweeney: Great! And then what?

Mrs. Lovett: After this, I'll OxyClean your Slap Chop all night long and make you ShamWow.

Sweeney: ...Thanks, but no.

Mrs. Lovett: I meant that I'm going to massage your arms, not massage your...uh. You know. Anyway, make yourself useful and help with the bodies.

(Suddenly, Sweeney notices someone suspiciously familiar.)

Sweeney: Oh sweet jeezy! It's my wife that I totally didn't notice was my wife an hour ago!

Mrs. Lovett: (pissed off beyond all bounds) Oh, fuck me gently with a _chainsaw_.

Sweeney: The pleasure would be all mine. Well, maybe some of yours, I don't know. Anyway, point is, you lied to me.

Mrs. Lovett: Because you were devastated. And devastatingly attractive. Plus, she was in-freaking-sane. You're telling me you would have wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone who has no concept of personal hygiene and thinks Tic Tacs are _money?_

Sweeney: You have a point. Let's dance, bitch!

(They begin to tango.)

Sweeney: (singing) This is weird.

Mrs. Lovett: It's weird.

Sweeney: Very weird.

Mrs. Lovett: Frickin' weird.

Sweeney: I'm so mad that I don't know what to do.  
Killing off crazed sex fiends  
I just want to watch _Scream  
_And to top it all off I'm with you.

Mrs. Lovett: Can we go to the sea?  
Will you still marry me?  
And I'm thinking of sweet sexytime!

Sweeney: As a matter of fact, honey, yes I am...  
It's called the Tango of Death.

Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney: The Tango of Death!  
It's a dark, smelly basement of doom.  
As I keep you dangling  
You're wrong, the bodies we're mangling

Mrs. Lovett: It's different with me!

Sweeney: And I toss and I turn  
Cause the handcuffs, they hurt  
Yet I yearn and I moan and...oh god!

Both: I think I know what you mean

The Tango...of Death!

Sweeney: You lied, yes you lied

Nellie lied, frickin' lied

I'm enraged, but I won't give up now  
Gotta look on the bright side  
With all of my might  
At least killing people was fun

Mrs. Lovett: When you're dancing my dance  
You don't stand a chance  
Now take off your pants right now!

Sweeney: I think you might as well  
Dance a tango to hell  
At least you'll have tangoed at all.

(Suddenly, in a display of Hulk-like strength, Sweeney picks up Mrs. Lovett and throws her into the oven.)

Mrs. Lovett: (as she toastifies) OW! THAT IS FRICKIN' HOT!

Sweeney: (begins singing again) Lovett roasting on an open fire...

Mrs. Lovett: My god, you're an asshole.

(Whilst his business partner is busy becoming a heap of ashes, Sweeney goes over to the body of his wife and sits down beside it, prepared to make a long dramatic speech.)

Sweeney: (tearfully) Alas, poor Lucy. I sort of knew ye...

(Suddenly, a WILD TOBY appears! He uses RAZOR! It's super effective!)

Sweeney: (bleeding to death) How could you do such a thing? I clothed you and fed you and...scared you!

Toby: I was involved in a cutthroat competition for Work House Musical 2, pardon the pun. And guess what? I won! I'm going to Hollywood! I don't need any of you anymore! All I need is gin! All I need is gin, gin! Gin is all I need!

(Toby skips off merrily, leaving his one-time guardian to bleed to death.)

Sweeney: (mostly dead now) Strawberry...jelly...

(Meanwhile, upstairs...)

Johanna: Um...guys? Guys? What just happened?

**THE END**  
(...for now.)

* * *

**So...Where Are They Now?  
**

**Sweeney and Lovett **were denied entrance to Hell upon arrival, because the people in charge realized they'd enjoy it far too much. They are now permanent fixtures of the massive waiting room that is purgatory, with nothing but a fishtank to occupy their time, and nothing to eat but tuna fish sandwiches and decaf coffee. Oh, and much to Lovett's chagrin, you can't have sex in purgatory. Darn it.

**Toby **moved to Hollywood, became the next Zac Efron, and eventually got hooked on speed. After a dramatic tale of addiction and recovery, he decided to become a talk show host, and now has a tremendously successful career built mostly on finding out who the baby daddy is.

**Anthony and Johanna **got married, and as would be expected, bred like bunnies. They have nine children, all girls, and all named by Johanna – LaTouretta, LaFawnDuh, Uniqua, Speshelle, Hannah, Montana, Johanna II: Electric Boogaloo, Sweenette, Pirellisha, and Ginaqua. After ten years of married bliss, Anthony ran away to join the traveling cast of _Disney on Ice._

**The Beadle and Turpin **were also not allowed into Hell, and went somewhere worse – the North Pole. They were resurrected and forced to work for Santa, and every time they so much as think about doing naughty things with the elves, a very angry security guard comes along to punch them in the face.

**Lucy **did go to heaven, and spends most of her time lounging around on fluffy clouds, eating jellybeans and being massaged by a gang of shirtless male models. She's still crazy.

**[Wait. What is that I see? Floating on the horizon? Can it be..._a new fic? _Yes, from the creator of Spoofy Todd comes something equally inane – Legal Guardians of the Caribbean! Follow Jack, Elizabeth, Will, and He of Many Tentacles as they attempt to form a murderous ten-year-old girl into a functioning member of society, drink all the rum, and break many household appliances! Tune in to LgotC sometime in that vague time called the near future, only on FFN!]**


End file.
